Mio Sole
by Devious Shigure
Summary: Spain and Romano live happily together, and slowly Spain begins to realize his feelings for the young Italian. However, will his own fratello come to take him away. Contains lemons. Centers around Spamano, but has slight Itacest and Gerita.
1. Chapter 1

Romano's heels clicked on the pristine white tiles as he clutched the large golden cross to keep it from bashing against his chest. He ran down the corridor with unsure tears in his eyes. The large house was starting to creak with the sound of emptiness. His white hat slipped from his head and fell upon the floor, but Romano was eager to make it to the large wooden door. Just moments earlier he heard it open. Someone was about to leave, and there was only one person left. If he left too…then….

But Romano tried not to think about that…..

"Veneziano!" Romano screamed out hoarsely, "Please! Veneziano!" Romano could see the large door closing. Austria's back was slowly entering the horizon as he had small Veneziano in tow. Hungary looked back at Romano with a pitiful look in her eyes towards the young boy. She bowed slightly and kept her stride in step with Austria.

Romano curled into a ball on the floor and wept. He let his large tears hit the marble as he shook. "I don't want to be alone," he admitted, "Grandpa Rome, Veneziano, please." Romano's voice cracked. He banged his hands on the ground in an infantile effort to stop everything from happening. Romano took deep breaths and calmed himself enough to walk around the newly empty house.

Romano placed the fallen white hat back on his head and allowed his vestments to flow easily against the wind coming in through the windows. He found himself trying to breathe in deep breaths but still being light-headed. Romano threw off the cross and watched the crystal shatter into large glimmering pieces.

"I don't want to be alone!" He wailed openly.

"Oi, Romano, mi amor*, if you keep sleeping on the ground the turtles will get you," a familiar voice laughed. Romano didn't need to open his eyes to recognize the voice he'd known since childhood. When he heard the voice his mind would create shameless images of summer escapades on the ocean, long siestas on a nice plateau under the plentiful sky, delicious meals of tomato and Pasta Mountains. He could see it clearly. He could see Spain.

When Romano opened his eyes he was blissfully aware of Spain crouching near his face, hands on both sides of his face checking, instinctually, for fever. His eyes wandered around his surroundings and he only saw large leaves and green poles that held giant large red fireworks on the ends, and small green bulbs not yet ready for eating.

"You're not warm," Spain said nonchalantly, "but your head is covered in sweat. Were you having a bad dream mi amor?"

"Don't worry about it," Romano said sitting up and slowly running his fingers through his hair. He stretched out his long legs and reached out to his toes letting his back crack several times.

Spain watched amorously as Romano's copper hair glimmered in the sunlight and his long muscular arms and back showed through his dark green tank top. Spain could feel himself blushing, so he grabbed Romano and hid his face in his back; knowing the young Italian wouldn't notice the heat coming from his face.

"Ai! Mi amor! You are so cute when you are waking up!" He nuzzled his face into Romano's back taking in the strong smell of tomatoes and spices. He wanted nothing more than to hold Romano down and….

But no, he couldn't think of doing that….If Romano knew then he'd…..

Romano sat there with Spain's arms wrapped around him as he lightly brushed away dirt and little caterpillars from his shoes and pants. Throughout the years he'd grown blasé to Spain's numerous cuddles, nuzzles, and names. When Spain wasn't wrapped around him he felt like something was missing from him. But he didn't dare tell Spain. Romano placed his hands on Spain's arm before noticing he was wearing a suit.

"How was the world conference?"

Spain laughed calmly as he nuzzled further into Romano's back. He didn't want to talk about work. He wanted to keep holding the sweating Italian in a field of tomatoes and smelling his cinnamon hair. This was where his home was. Despite being an ocean apart, he had unconsciously, secretly made his real home here. With Romano. With mi amor.

Spain pulled away, knowing Romano would keep asking until he answered. But he kept his fingertips settled onto Romano's sun-warmed arms.

"The usual I suppose. Sealand wanting to become a country, England and America yelling. German drunk and screaming. Russia trying to crush Latvia and Lithuania again and Greece and I left to talk about Homer's death. So nothing too eventful or beneficial I suppose," Spain laughed.

Romano clutched his pants and took a deep breath. He found difficulty in swallowing the stone in his throat. "a-and Veneziano….," Romano finally managed.

Spain stared with a slightly-open mouth at Romano. How long had it been since the brothers had seen each other? "Veneziano is fine, Romano, you needn't worry. Germany is taking good care of him, and has since the war ended. And Mr. Austria raised him well so he's healthy and…relatively intelligent."

Romano smiled and kept staring down. Spain lightly laughed and looked at the clouds as he recalled the other countries present at the world conference. But when he heard a small plunk hit the dirt.

When Spain looked over he saw Romano's face a bright red around the nose and eyes as Romano lightly hugged his knees. Romano was stifling his own sobs down by biting on the back of his hand.

Spain took Romano's hand and held it away from his mouth. He placed his hand under Romano's chin and made Romano look up at him. "Mi amor. There's no need to hide your tears from me." He said shifting Romano onto his lap and letting him cry. Romano's light tears darkened the light white suit shirt that Spain always wore to special occasions. Spain's hand lightly ran his fingers through Romano's soft silken hair. As Romano wept Spain showered his hair in soft, silent kisses.

Translations:

*Mi amor: "my love"


	2. Chapter 2

"O Romano, mi amor, you looks so cute," Spain said brushing Romano's hair out from his face as he slept on the bed. Spain had carried the crying man to his room and tucked him into his crimson and gold sheets. After considerable weeping Romano finally fell asleep.

Spain bent down and smelled the strong scent of Romano's hair. He was using a new shampoo, his hair smelled of tangerines instead of mangos as it had before. Spain had smelled Romano's hair enough times to notice the small difference. It took all his strength not to jump onto the bed next to Romano and smell the deep incense of his hair all night, to not brush his lips against Romano's skin. Spain knew if he began kissing any part of Romano's body, he wouldn't be able to stop until he had covered every inch, no, centimeter, of his lean body.

Instead, Spain sat at the side of the bed in a chair he pulled from the desk in the corner. He gently touched his fingertips to Romano's as he slept.

"No! non andare. Lo non voglio essere solo! Veneziano!*" Romano muttered in his sleep clutching at the pillow and shaking.

"Romano. Romano. Mi amor. You needn't be so strong. If you just tell Veneziano what you feel, then…," Spain whispered in Romano's ear in an attempt to raid into his subconscious.

Spain stayed with Romano until he ceased shaking and returned to a serene sleep. Spain left the bedroom and entered the kitchen. Romano had painted it a bright green. Was it just coincidence that the green was the same color as Spain's eyes? Spain often asked that same question to himself whenever he entered the kitchen, but no matter what words he chose he couldn't acquire the adequate words to ask Romano without revealing his true thoughts.

He grabbed a tomato and began eating it like an apple over the sink. The bright yellow seeds, that were meant to carry on the next generations, plopped into the sink with every bite. They slowly worked themselves down the drain. Spain often liked to dream that those seeds would somehow work themselves into a river and manage to grow somewhere.

Spain always liked to dream, even if his fantasies were highly unlikely.

His suit was beginning to strangle him, and make his warm beyond what he could stand. So he entered the room where Romano slept and carefully pulled some clothes from the drawers. In the dark he couldn't even tell where his hands were in the pitch darkness. He carefully slipped from the room and into the adjoining bathroom.

When he flicked on the light he noticed that the shirt he had picked up was a pastel pink and the pants a deep yellow-olive. These were Romano's usual attire. He had been in the wrong drawer. Spain was about to go return the clothes when the thought came to him.

_These were Romano's clothes_.

Spain took the clothes in hand and took a long smell from them. The color smelled like Romano's cologne, and the rest like the detergent he often used. Spain hugged the shirt tight as he sat on the toilet-lid. He wanted to take in every ounce of cotton softness. The seamless look of every stitch. Even the gentle shimmer from all the faux-marble buttons. Spain knew these components would be harder to detect if the wriggling man were inside them. Yet, Spain still wished Romano was filling his arms.

"Something's been plaguing Romano recently," Spain thought cautiously, "I wonder if it's Veneziano. No, I know its Veneziano. Romano hasn't seen his own brother in years. I don't think he's seen, or even talked to him for that matter, since Austria took him away."

Spain removed himself from his suit and walked around in his boxers. Romano wasn't going to wake up soon so he walked into the bedroom and carefully felt his way around the dark room. After returning the clothes and attaining his own comfortable tank-top and shorts he brushed his fingers past Romano's forehead and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Mi Amor," he purred nearly silently, "I want you to be happy."

Once in his usual array of white tank-top and khaki pants, he made himself comfortable on the large green-striped couch. He surveyed the bookshelf from the couch, but found it full of gardening-tip books, and mafia-dramas. The usual.

However, a single white binder popped out to Spain's eye. He removed himself from the couch and wandered over to the shelf. There was no title on the crease. Spain removed the book and on the first page there was a picture of three people. A rather large man, an orange haired toddler and a brighter-orange haired baby. With a shock Spain identified these as Rome, Italy and his own little Romano. Images of Romano looking into this book with his usual thin smile flooded Spain's mind.

_These were Romano's most precious memories_.

Spain placed the book back without turning into any more precious memories. Instead, he strode over to the phone and lifted the receiver. He paused a moment before the cluster of numbers returned to him and he hurriedly punched them in.

Seven rings then the other line clicked.

"Hello?" the voice sounded.

"Hello, Veneziano. This is Spain. Listen, can we talk?"

Translation:

*No, don't go. I don't want to be alone! Veneziano!


	3. Chapter 3

Romano woke up when the first lights of the morning sun hit his eyes through the white-curtain window. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes to give them freedom from t he nights ravages. His eyes burned and had some moisture on the corners. Remembering the day before his face turned bloodshot and he buried his face back into his pillows. Spain must think he's insane. The first time he cries since childhood and of all things he does he passes out! And in front of Spain! Romano felt like a total lunatic and began growling into his pillow frustrated. What was Spain going to say next time he saw him?

Speaking of which...where is Spain? Romano lifted his head from the pillow and rubbed his eyes some more to cease the blurriness he had from the previous nights crying. When he lifted his head to the light he saw a sleeping Spain sitting in the chair right next to him. His arms were folded across his chest and head lolling onto his shoulder. His dark cocoa hair fell to one side hiding the small crescent of his shut eyes. Romano froze and knelt so he could look into Spain's face. "It's not fair that someone who looks as angelic as you as they sleep had to be in such an uncomfortable chair all night," Romano thought to himself as he cradled Spain's cheek in his hand.

The older country let out a snort and shook his head a bit, which scared Romano into shrinking back against the wall. He mumbled angry words under his breath as he silently crawled off the bed and got dressed (which, in an attempt not to wake Spain nearly took twenty minutes). Once in his casual pink shirt and khaki pants he made his way into the kitchen and pouring himself some fresh coffee.

As he made his way into the living-room he noticed the white notebook on the shelf and reached to pick it up. For the past century his days always began by flipping through the book secretly savoring every picture. But not this morning. Romano saw Spain exiting the bedroom through the corner of his eye and diverted his hands direction towards a gardening book and absent-mindedly pretended to flip through it instead. He kept his gaze away from Spain as he made himself some coffee and a piece of toast, cheese and tomato.

How in the world was he going to be able to look Spain in the eye after yesterday's fiasco?

Spain plopped himself onto the couch right next to Romano and looked over. "Mi amor, you are truly skilled."

Romano turned red and shouted, "What you talking about, you bastard?"

Spain chuckled and took a long sip of his coffee. "I mean you can even read books upside down." Romano felt a fire ignite behind his face and tried to turn the book around but it slipped from his hands and fell to the floor between his feet. Romano ran his fingers through his hair and breathed in as he bent and removed it from the floor and threw it onto the coffee table with a slap.

Romano made his way towards the door and was about to walk out to water the tomatoes as he did every morning when Spain chimed in. "You needn't do that, Romano, I already took care of it."

"Eh? Why, You bastard?"

"Because we have company this morning and I don't want you to miss their arrival." Spain said completely straight-faced which sent a shook into Romano's spine.

"Well, who is it?"

"You'll see shortly," Spain said rising from the couch and placing his arms around Romano's waist, "Mi amor, I know you'll hate me for this but in the long run it'll give you much peace of mind."

"What?" Romano shouted as he was carried to the couch, "who the hell is coming? Tell me now bastard!"

Spain tossed Romano on the couch and placed himself on top of Romano so his arms were on each side of his head. His knees on either side of Romano's hips. "Mi amor," Spain purred, "you must learn to trust. I'm tired of you hiding your every thought and feeling. I said it when you were little and I mean it now too, I am here for you!"

Spain's dark green eyes store deeply into Romano's golden ones as he send sweet words straight to his heart. Romano could feel a rock in his throat and choked it down as he always did. What was he supposed to say to that? Only three words came to mind but he didn't dare even mutter a single one. He wasn't about to loose the one person who treated him like a human-being because he dared to have emotions.

He had emotions for Veneziano…

And Veneziano was….

When a rustle of pebbles came from outdoors Spain removed himself from the couch and looked out the window.

"Romano," he said solemnly keeping his eyes outside, "I want you to promise me that no matter what happens you won't run away. It's time you faced this. And if you do run away I'd know you're truly a coward and I wasted my time on you. So promise me now."

These words stung Romano deep in his stomach and made him want to throw up. He wanted to run away from what ever Spain had planned, but he couldn't handle the thought of having Spain leave him. He sat on the couch staring wide-eyed at Spain's back, speechless even when the bell sounded.

"Promise me!" Spain shouted.

"I-I-I-I promise," Romano blurted out at Spain's outburst.

Spain reached for the door and opened it. Romano couldn't see who was there until Spain moved and let Romano's eyes witness Veneziano walking into the house in his deep-blue army uniform.

Romano could feel a need to vomit at the sight of Veneziano. He found himself lucky he hadn't had any sustenance that morning besides the few sips of coffee. Instead he kept his gaze on Spain pleadingly. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly open begging so many questions. Spain felt himself feeling pity for Romano having to face his past demons this way and couldn't meet his eyes as he sat down next to him again.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Veneziano sat in a chair across from Romano. "So," Spain began with a clap of his hands looking at Romano who continued staring into the floor, "last night, I called Veneziano to come today so we could…talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Romano said bitterly to the floor.

"How long has it been since you've spoken to Veneziano?" Spain snipped back.

"That's my damn business!" Romano yelled standing up. Spain grabbed his hand and shot him a scowl and Romano remembered the promise and sat back down.

"You look healthy, Romano. I'm glad," Veneziano began sheepishly.

"…yeah," Romano looked at Veneziano gripping his pants and Spain's hand tightly.

"So…it's been a while since we've talked," Veneziano began again, "I'm sorry we haven't kept in touch. You are my big brother after all…"

"Big brother big brother big brother," Romano repeated a few times until he began chuckling, "I haven't considered myself as such since you left with Austria."

"But I…"

"You left with Austria! You didn't even consider how I would feel in that house all alone! After grandpa Rome left and everyone kept splitting up, you just left with Austria without even considering how I'd feel!"

"I'm sorry, Romano! After Rome left you just shut down and didn't talk anymore and I thought…," Veneziano said calmly, chocking back tears.

"You thought I wouldn't care about loosing my little baby brother to Austria?"

Veneziano looked at Romano wide-eyed and blushing at hearing Romano calling him his baby brother. He wanted to smile at the small term of endearment, but even he could tell it wasn't the right time.

"I did care, Romano. I love my big brother. But, Austria came and seized me forcing me to come with him. He said it'd be best if we split up 'cause it would help us get out own identities. I'm sorry it hurt you but, I honestly thought it would be for your benefit. You even have Mr. Spain now," Veneziano nodded to Spain whose hand was stroking Romano's back trying to comfort him. Romano took some time before responding allowing the words of his brother soak into his heart. It felt like a balm had been placed on a long-open wound.

"At least I have a reason now," Romano thought, "Its not like I thought. That he left me because he hated me or 'cause he liked Austria more."

"Veneziano," Romano said, but choked and had to take a few breaths to calm himself before beginning again, "Do you think we'll ever be close again? I still want you to be my little brother," Romano confessed looking up at his brother.

Veneziano smiled and opened his arms, "I like to believe so. We'll be fine, Romano. After all, we are tied together by blood."

Romano stood and looked at Veneziano standing with his arms wide open. He took a deep breath before finally entering his brothers embrace.

"Saremo bene, non e vero*?" Romano muttered into his brother's shoulder with a small sob.

"Si, mio fratello maggiore **" Veneziano murmured back.

Spain saw this warm moment from the couch and smiled. He knew the future was unsure with the brothers, but this was at least a first step.

"Romano, be happy," Spain thought.

Translations:

* Saremo bene, non e vero = we'll be fine won't we?  
>** Si, mio fratello maggiore= yes, my big brother.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Through the entire day Romano and Veneziano talked on the couches, but as the sun began to set appetites rose. Spain rose from the couch and urged the brothers to resume connecting and went solo into the kitchen.

"I'm glad there is someone that cares about you, Romano," Veneziano said when Spain had shut the door.

"W-What're you talking about?" Romano blushed.

"Spain, well on the phone last night, sounded really worried about you. He said you weren't doing so well and thought talking to me might help. He choked up a few times even…but he saved us, Romano, even though it was hard for him he saved us," Veneziano gave a wide smile to Romano as he saw his brother have a wide blush.

"H-h-he just wanted us to be brothers again is all! So I wouldn't bother him all the time!" Romano blurted out grabbing his pants.

"I doubt that," Veneziano smiled and moved onto the couch alongside Romano and wrapped his arms around him, "he looks at you so sweetly, Romano."

Romano blushed and kept his hands clenched onto the excess fabric of his pants. When he could feel his face becoming the color of a ripe tomato he hid it in Veneziano's shoulder. Romano drew back for a moment after smelling a bit of his brother's skin. He hadn't smelled the light mix of oregano and grass on anyone since he'd left all those years ago.

But that was in the past….

Romano wrapped his younger brother in his arms and rubbed his back with his fingertips. He realized they both shared Grandpa Rome's signature physique.

"I'm sorry to break such a special moment, but it has been a five-minute hug and the food is getting cold," Spain announced from the doorway of the kitchen.

"It's pasta!" Veneziano exclaimed dislodging himself from his brother and skipping into the dining room. Spain was about to turn into the room as well when Romano grabbed the back of his apron and placed his face near Spain's.

"I now understand when you said 'relatively smart' Spain," he said close to Spain's ear. Just close enough for his warm lips to hit the cold flesh of Spain's earlobe. His hot breath hitting Spain's neck and sending a chill down his spine. Spain offered a small chuckle as Romano entered the room.

"Serve yourselves! I'll be right back!" Spain said rushing down the hallway to the restroom. He shut the bright white door and entered the clay-colored room breathing heavy. He looked into the mirror and saw a bright red ribbon stretched from his ear to ear. "Romano would have definitely noticed this," Spain thought to himself, "He would notice and he would have scolded me and….and I have to get rid of this!" Spain screamed in his head but whenever he shut his eyes he could feel Romano coming up from behind him and the feeling of his lips on his ear.

He wanted more…..

When Spain composed himself he entered the kitchen and saw the brothers sitting at the table laughing. He walked over to the cabinets and was in the process of removing a plate when Veneziano spoke up.

"Spain, Romano made you a dish so you can sit down already!" He said scooping a large forkful of pasta into his mouth and getting sauce all over his cheeks.

"Che Palle*, Veneziano, can't you eat clean?" Romano used his napkin to rub away the sauce on his little brother's face.

Spain sat between the two and looked at his plate. There was a large hunk of meat in the middle, sauce on only half the pasta and half uncovered. Romano had made his plate exactly as he loves it. Spain only sat with his fork and knife in hand and looked at the plate like it was shining full of gold.

"Oi, you bastard, why aren't you eating?"

Spain patted Romano on the head and began digging into his meal. He smiled at Veneziano, who was on his third spaghetti-mountain plate. He glanced at Romano through the corner of his eye and saw a shy smile he hadn't seen in a while.

"As long as we can go along like this," Spain thought to himself," then everything will be alright. I don't want to destroy this moment," he shook allowing the memory of Romano's lips on his ear to return, "even if that means I can't ever let you know. Mi amor."

Translations:

*che palle = what balls. An Italian saying for anger and/or embarrassment.


	5. Chapter 5

"Veneziano can sure eat a lot, can't he," Spain laughed as he dried another plate Romano handed him.

"I swear we'll be cleaning pasta sauce in the kitchen for the next week!" Romano growled as he dug his hands in the cloudy, muck-colored water searching for another plate to clean. He was surprised to find no other plates or silverware camouflaged in the water. But after his talk with Veneziano, standing shoulder to shoulder with Spain was becoming toiling on his control.

In the corner of his eye he could see the crisp chocolate-hair curled into tiny curls around his temples and ears. The bright jade color of Spain's eyes made Romano reminiscent of summer days with Spain rolling on the grass hills. His fingertips burned in the water, urging him to grab the man into his arms and see how he smells. Did he still smell like sweat, tomatoes and sunshine?

Even if he just rested his head on his shoulder he would be able to smell him…

"Romano, you've had your hands in that water for a few minutes. I'm sure there's nothing in there anymore," Spain said as he reached into the water to grab the plug and drain the water. In the process the soft backside of his hand brushed against Romano's knuckles sending them both blushing and looking at the floor to hide.

"I coulda gotten that, you bastard!"

"Yeah, that's why your hands were in the water so long, "Spain chuckled awkwardly as his blush dispersed and he looked up. He could see Romano sitting at the table, a drink in his hands, looking at the picnic-plaid pattern on the tablecloth. Spain pulled out a creaking wooden chair and took a seat to the right of the tired man. The table remained silent.

"So, what did you and Veneziano talk about when I was cooking?"

Romano's ears perked up and his shoulders tensed. He peered at Spain through a split in his hair and saw how the man was looking at him. "He looks at you so sweetly, Romano," Veneziano had said. 'The look in his eyes,' Romano though,' it looks like he's looking at an angel or a room full of cupcakes….or tomatoes. Yeah, tomatoes. I bet it's just 'cause I'm like his younger brother. What's wrong with me,' he sighed,' I must be incestuous!'

"Stuff," he finally answered.

"That makes everything so much clearer, Romano. I was blind but now I can see. Thank you," Spain gave a deep hearted laugh and patted Romano on the back. "but seriously, what kind of stuff?"

"Brotherly stuff," Romano grunted taking a large chug of his soda and bashing the cup onto the table. However, he forgot the cup was glass and it shattered all onto the table. Romano cut his hand as it landed on the glass. He breathed in through his teeth and held his hand close as he made his way to the sink and cursed.

He rinsed the large wound with water and was reaching for a band-aid when Spain grabbed his hand.

"No, mi amor! You have to disinfect it!"

"Water is fine!"

"If It got infected you'd be sorry~," Spain sung still holding the hand over the sink. Bright red splotches landed onto the metal and mixed carelessly with the water until it was a bright pink. Romano growled in his throat as he tried to avoid Spain's eyes.

"Fine, take care of it for me," he finally managed to spurt out, "but if it hurts, so help me God you'll pay, bastard!"

"Such a filthy mouth," Spain laughed as he reached up into the cupboard and uncapped a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He took Romano's hand in his and held it tight as he poured it over the gaping red wound. It felt like a thousand needles being rammed into his muscles. Romano put up a fight to try and free his hand, but Spain kept his hand safely over the sink and over-powered the young man.

When Spain was satisfied with how much had been on the wound he placed the bottle on the counter and looked at Romano. The corners of the young one's eyes were misty with tears that he refused to let fall. He took the hand out of the sink and gently kissed the knuckles, getting the strong flavor of antiseptic and iron all over his lips. With his clean hand he took the side of Romano's face in his palm and brushed the hair out of his face, being cautious not to touch the curly hair. A single pain-tear fell and splashed onto Spain's wrist. Spain looked at it and smiled at Romano, before licking it off.

"I'll go get the bandages," he said letting go of Romano's hand and face, "keep your hand over the sink so you don't get blood everywhere."

Spain left Romano in the green-painted wood kitchen over black and white tiles. Everywhere Romano looked he would see Spain's eyes, or be reminded of his cold skin on hot days. He felt himself blushing as small tears continued to fall. He bent his face over the sink and looked at his hot pink blood sitting on the metal. He could still feel Spain's burning eyes on his and blushed into the sink. He hid his face in the crook of his arm to try and stop blushing.

"Damn him…." Romano chocked out

"Ok, here's the bandage," Spain sang as he entered the kitchen.

'He acts as if nothing happened, the bastard,' Romano thought to himself as Spain took his hand in his again and closely examined the wound. The white bandage was carefully wrapped around Romano's slender hand offering him some relief from the elements, but not from the Spaniard in front of him. Even if Romano closed his eyes all he could feel in the world was Spain's gentle fingertips brushing against his skin softly allowing his nails to tickle his flesh.

"There, all done," Spain smiled as he released himself from Romano, "now stay here. I don't want you to get hurt again." Spain smiled and went to get the dust pan and brush. He placed all the glass bits in a large bag and threw it into the outside garbage. He was closely examining the table for miniature glass shards that would hurt someone when he felt a tug at his back.

He looked back and saw Romano clutched tight to him. A wicked blush fell across his face; his mouth fell open just a tad and remained there. For once, Spain was left speechless by the small man behind him.

"Spain…T-thank you," Romano chocked out still clutching onto Spain's shirt.

"Y-yeah, no problem, mi amor*."

"si, mio sole**," Romano whispered very lightly so Spain could barely hear. But he could heat Romano's voice no matter how quiet he was. Spain gently turned around and wrapped the man in his embrace.

Translations:

*Mi amor = my love (Spanish)

**Mio Sole = my sunshine (Italian)(le gasp! The title makes sense now!)


	6. Chapter 6

With Romano in his arms, Spain smelled the top of his hair and allowed his fingers to roam over the pink-silk shirt that lay over Romano's shoulders. His nostrils tingled with the intoxicating aroma of cinnamon that Spain had grown accustomed to. Spain's fingertips swam in the softness of the shirt and the warmth of the skin just underneath. He could feel the petite, but muscular, physique Romano had under his fingertips through the shirt.

He wished he could feel them without the interference…

After several minutes Romano pushed out of Spain's embrace and went to make himself a drink. He hid his face by looking down, but Spain could still tell there was a slight redness in Romano's ears. He wanted nothing more than to grab Romano by the back and hold him close for only a few more minutes.

'Miracles don't happen more than once a day,' Spain thought to himself as he began changing the tablecloth. He grabbed the green-plaid cloth and entered the garage, placing the blood-stained item in the washing-machine.

After setting them in the water to soak off the blood he re-entered the house only to hear loud gunshots. Instinctively he ducked and covered his head. His heart raced faster as he heard yelling and gunshots from the next room. He army-crawled into the kitchen, horrified to see Romano not there. Spain stood and ran toward the gunshots and burst down the door to the living-room.

"R-Romano!" he screamed frantically looking around the room.

"What the hell ya screaming for? Bastard," Romano replied sitting on the couch taking a long sip from his drink.

Spain nearly fell to the floor in embarrassment as he noticed the mafia movie playing on the TV in front of Romano. His cheeks were burning and he held a lump in his throat, but he still felt like his heart was lifted from the worry.

If something happened to Romano…

"I would be lost," Spain muttered to himself at the thought as he stood back up.

"What are you talking about? I'm trying to watch this asshole!"

"I was just gonna say how I'm going to go to bed. So, g'night Romano!" Spain laughed as he sauntered down the hall to his room.

Spain locked the door to his room once he entered. Despite the room being many times smaller than the one he had at home, he felt more relaxed here. He could feel his shoulders slack as he readied for bed. He felt free not needing to worry about any attacks in Romano's house. This was his haven.

He pulled a large book from under the bed and placed it atop his mattress. The first few pages were filled with boring pictures of local architecture and handwritten notes. After turning a few pages he finally found his treasure.

Pages held pictures of little Romano around Spain's giant house. His tiny face was covered in tiny scowls towards the photographer. His little white vestments only accentuated the scowl on the tiny boys face. Hate-filled eyes covered the first few pages and sent Spain's heart in a grip-lock.

However, as he kept turning the pages he saw the gaze become apathetic towards him. His tiny body being caught in hilarious dancing positions by the camera. Spain looked upon these photos with a smile as he remembered Romano dancing wildly to his guitar and how he had to hire someone to take these photos.

The last of the child photos was of Romano as a child sleeping on Spain's bed in his tiny tomato-patterned pajamas. That day, Spain discovered Romano and couldn't keep himself from being astounded at the little man in his bed. He wondered when Romano had become so comfortable around him. But still, he remembered that little face with someone tugging at his heart strings.

"dulces suenos, mi poco de tomate.*"

Translations:

* dulces suenos, mi poco de tomate = sweet dreams my little tomato (Spanish)


	7. Chapter 7

Rating: T+, if you're Christian and easily offended please don't read the first part. You may get offended at Romano's language towards God….fair warning.

Romano watched solemnly as the sun hit the tiny broken crystals and the large golden cross on the ground. Destroying the cross was heresy; he had always been told that by the elders that ran him. Yet, as he stood and looked upon the shattered holiness he felt nothing in his chest. He grabbed the vestments around his chest in panic.

'Did my heart leave too?'

He fell to the ground and touched the broken shards with his fingers, adoring the gentle shine they shone even as they were broken. He gripped them in his hands in envy. He felt broken, but he could no longer shine in full glory as they did. He could feel pressure in his chest as if his heart was going to freely jump from his chest.

'Dammit,' he covered his mouth fearing the word he just muttered. He'd been taught all his life such words were a curse unto himself and God. But, where were those people now? Those damn people that taught him not to say such things. One of them had just taken his only brother.

"God dammit!" he screamed as he gripped the pieces tighter allowing his blood to cover their shine and stain the marble flooring. He slammed his hands onto the ground with such force he broke the cross in two. "Damn you Austria, Damn you Feliciano, Damn you God! What did I ever do to deserve this?"

He kneeled on the floor and rested his head on the marble, staining his forehead in blood. He sat up and touched the blood cautiously. He traced his finger in a circle through the blood on the floor. He took up his fingers and traced a circle onto his forehead and clapped his hands twice.

This was his new baptism. From here he refused to believe in a God who took everything from him.

Romano woke with a jolt at sudden warmth on his forehead and a twirling of his hair. He jolted from the couch breathing heavily and clutching his chest. He looked to his side and saw Spain standing there in the dark. He was in loosely tied sweatpants and shirtless. A golden cross shone sweetly on top of the soft mocha skin.

"Mi amor, you were screaming and jumping in your sleep. I was worried about you. Are you okay?" Spain said hurriedly as Romano stared wide-eyed at him. Romano ran a hand through his red hair and took a few deep breaths before nodding.

"Romano, I can tell when you're lying. What were you dreaming of," Spain said as he sat next to Romano on the couch, "Now tell me; what was your dream about?"

The large emerald eyes store into Romano's making him feel like he was sitting atop an ocean of unease. He wanted nothing more than to jump into Spain's arms and confide into him all his displeasures and troubles. But this was just another thing Spain could never know about him. Romano simply muttered, "I can't remember."

Spain scooted on the couch towards Romano and wrapped the tiny man in his arms. "You needn't keep such things bottled up forever, mi amor. You'll get an ulcer someday." Spain began to lecture Romano about expressing himself more, but his words fell upon dead ears as Romano looked out the window and to the night sky.

Romano leaned back into Spain's arms and watched the stars dance in the sky. Orion, Virgo, Taurus, Libra, Draco. Spain had taught him these constellations long, long ago.

"Those three, right there, are part of Orion. Those are Orion's belt and the stars around him are him shooting an arrow. See? Barely? You'll probably be able to see the entire thing when you're older."

Romano leaned back feeling Spain's warmth as he made out the arrow and the bow, his legs and his arms. He imagined the great man who had been turned into a constellation by the Gods. He knew someday Spain would probably become a constellation for being a saint to his lost soul.

"That's why it's so important. Do you see it now, Romano?" Spain said finishing his lecture.

"Yes, Spain, I do."

Mi amor = my love (Spanish)


	8. Chapter 8

"W-W-When the HELL did I agree to this?" The small orange haired man screamed and thrashed around as the tall tanned man carried him to the room.

"Remember? I was saying how you should sleep with me so I can wake you up in case you have another nightmare and you agreed. You said "yeah I see" so you agreed to sleep in my room." Spain purred as he snuck small touches of Romano's skin.

"I-I'll be fine! Put me down you bastard! I am NOT sleeping with you!" he growled as he tried to escape the strong arms carrying him. As they approached Spain's door Romano thought to himself Spain would have to let go to open the door so he could escape then. But to his amazement Spain could open the door with his foot raised and even keep his balance with a thrashing man in his arms.

Romano soon was thrown into a room he hadn't seen in many years. The décor hadn't changed since his the house was built. The same light green walls and orange trimming, worn-out old oak furniture around the room in an eclectic style. He remembered how as a child he would flee to this room openly after a horrid nightmare, or even just as an excuse to see Spain after he'd been away for many months. Back then he didn't need an excuse other than that he was a child to be able to cuddle closer to Spain.

But adult men don't cuddle….for any reason.

When Romano's body began getting bigger he came to this conclusion by listening to the other nations and no matter how bad a nightmare was he began curling into a ball and not fleeing to Spain's side. If he was going to become a nation someday…he would have to learn to be strong and independent.

But now…

Spain was using HIS nightmare as an excuse to cuddle with him. 'This isn't what men do!' Romano kept shouting in his head as Spain set him down on the bed and patted his head. Under his fingers were the old sheets Spain had been using for years. The faded pattern of tomatoes and swirls played under Romano's fingertips. He would have to make a mental note to get Spain new ones; Spain would never notice he needed new ones until Romano pointed it out.

"This is a big bed so you can take that half and I'll take this half." Spain said smiling as he pointed to left and right respectively. Romano looked at the positions for a second and then wondered aloud:

"I thought you always slept on the left side, Spain. You once told me you have to or you'll never sleep right."

I thought you'd like the more comfy side, Romano," Spain laughed scratching the back of his head trying to hide his amazement at Romano's memory.

"I'll sleep fine on either side…IF I sleep here at all," Romano caught himself and blushed, "I guess since your bed is bigger than mine I'll sleep here…I guess."

Spain smiled as he circled around the left side and burrowed himself into the covers, trying to hide his excitement at being able to sleep next to Romano's warmth all night. He closed his eyes just enough until he could see through his eyelashes as he watched Romano awkwardly pull up the covers and make his way onto the mattress.

Spain saw Romano's head on the pillow and had to resist the urge to stroke the long hair that lay before him. The crisp orange curls that lay so gallantly on the head of the coarse man seemed coercing and unfair. Spain's entire body urged him to stroke the hair that was begging to be patted. If only Romano were still a child he could. He could reach out and stroke that coarse young one's hair until he fell asleep.

But grown men don't pat each others hair…

"Hell grown men don't sleep in the same bed like this," Spain thought deviously and reached out to touch Romano's hair. The younger man jumped.

"W-What the hell do you think you are doing?" Romano snapped as he began to fear Spain touching his curl.

"I'm touching your hair of course, Lovi*~," Spain nearly sang as he could feel the soft silk threads slide in-between his fingers.

"I know that you bastard! I mean…why?"

"It just looked so soft on the pillow, mi amor. I had to," Spain laughed as he continued to stroke his hair. Spain noticed how the muscles on Romano's back began to become less tense as he continued. "Does it bother you? I used to do this when you were little. You'd fall right asleep as long as I kept away from your main curl. Romano? Romano?"

Spain saw as no answer came from Romano and crawled so he was over looking the small man. His hands on either side of his torso. Spain examined his face and noticed the eyes were closed and soft slumber-breaths filled the air around them. "I guess it still makes you fall asleep," Spain laughed quietly as he looked upon the sleeping man.

As a few minutes passed Spain got the urge to touch his gentle face and neck. His skin was so soft for a man's and Spain could feel the soft warmth that radiated from the unconscious man. Spain saw Romano's lips part ever so slightly and he became filled with temptation. He wanted to violate those small rosebud lips and bite them until they became full-bloom roses.

But he couldn't do that to his little Lovi.

"Buenas noches Lovi poco**," Spain said leaning down close to Romano's face. He was about to retire to his side of the bed when Romano moved in his sleep onto his back and his cheek and nose softly brushed against Spain's. The terrorizing temptation returned as he looked upon the helpless Romano underneath him. He couldn't control his body as he slowly moved his knees on either side of Romano's torso and his hands on either side of his head.

"Solo una muestra, por ahora***," Spain panted to himself as he lowered himself closer. He could feel Romano's bangs hit his own as he lowered himself trying not to wake him. If Romano woke up now he would have a world of explaining to do. But this is something he had to do, or he'd explode.

Spain lowered his lips onto Romano's softly savoring the softness of the small rosebuds. He slowly made full-contact with them as he softly brushed fingertips over the tender neck and collar bone. He pulled away panting, his heart within him exploding with delight. "Solo una muestra," he kept repeating to himself as he went in for another taste. Romano was a heavy sleeper so he didn't fear allowing his tongue to glide softly among the bottom lip and his hand to discover the confines of his lustrous hair. His tongue could feel every crevice and his lips, driving Spain into frenzy and only wanting more.

But he couldn't allow himself to wake Romano and slowly crawled off Romano and retreated to his side of the bed. His body ached for more, but he refused to defile the only sanctuary he had in his life.

Instead he allowed Romano to sleep peacefully as he cautiously watched him sleep from his side of the bed. He brushed his fingertips on his arms every so often but the warmth only brought back the memory of his lips and made him crave more. Spain lay upon his pillow and waited for sleep to take him from this torment.

*Lovi = Lovino Vargas (Romano's fan-given name [I think])

** Buenas noches Lovi poco = Good night little Lovi (Spanish)

*** Solo una muestra, por ahora = Just a taste for now (Spanish)


	9. Chapter 9

The little Italian sat on the floor next to the shattered remnants of his once-sacred cross; carefully picking out the shards of crystal he had lodged into his hands. The blood under his fingernails was beginning to harden and stick the nail to the skin. Yet he still tried to dig his nails into his palm in an attempt to rid himself of the spoiled crystal.

But his slippery, bloody fingers couldn't keep a hold on the slick rock and he only infuriated the cuts further. He wanted nothing more than to bang his fists on the floor but he knew there would be no hope of removing the crystals if he did. So he just sat on the marble, letting his vestments stain from the blood dripping off his palms.

Romano removed one crystal, about an inch long, from the ball of his hand by his thumb. He bit his lip to keep from screaming as he pulled it out. He was trying to make it seem as if the house was empty. If nobody knew he was here then he wouldn't be dominated and reigned over just like Veneziano was.

However, despite his best efforts, he could hear wars waging outside. He could hear the throaty laughter of French noble-mans and captains as their reigns screamed into battle and charged their opponents sliding them onto their bayonets. Romano shuttered at the death-cries of men as they plopped onto the ground, lifeless and rotting. Even though he couldn't see them himself, his mind created an array of corpses arranged in a mountain, rotting and soiling the earth with crimson life-blood.

He grabbed his head and placed it between his knees trying to block the images. But all he could imagine at the moment were men, bodies mangled and screaming for death. He could hear their cries and begged for it to stop.

"I-Is this what Veneziano heard before he was conquered?" Romano thought in horror and shuttered on the floor. He began to shuffle the last pictures of Veneziano in his mind searching for any proof to see if his brother had felt the same thing. But he couldn't find any horror on his brother's face before Austria had taken him away.

Romano's heart breathed a sigh of relief. But just as his shoulders slacked the large doors to his home were kicked open, sending Romano into shock and causing him to run. He ran down the corridor, nearly tripping on his vestments, and locked himself into another room. The tears were running down his face in waterfalls as he struggled to catch his breath, clutching his chest.

"I don't want to belong to anyone!" He shouted in his head, "I'll never belong to anyone!"

Romano shot out of bed, breathing heavy and searching his hands for cuts and his body for the long white robes he once wore. As he slowly realized it had all been a dream he calmed himself and allowed himself to lay back against the pillow and catch his breath. His head touched the soft feathered pillow and he closed his eyes and turned onto his side, trying to get comfortable. The soft sunlight through the window hitting his face.

"The hell? I don't remember having an east-facing window," Romano said allowing his eyes to crack open. To his surprise he found a Spain soundly slumbering next to him. Romano nearly screamed but covered his mouth and slowly came to the realization of all the occurrences of the night prior.

Spain's nightshirt was long enough to cover his hands, but his fingertips barely showed through the top. Romano carefully sat up, to not wake Spain, and looked upon his bedmate. He took his hand and carefully moved it along the fingertips of Spain's and pushed the down slowly. His cold fingertips became enflamed at the delectable warmth that radiated from Spain. Romano could feel his face becoming engulfed in the same warmth. His lips were usually cold in the morning, but he slowly realized his mouth had been unusually warm that morning. He cursed under his breath and realized he must have brushed up against Spain's arm in his sleep and his lips must have touched it as well.

That was the only possibility…right?

Romano allowed himself to touch Spain's royal curls that rested so carelessly on his forehead. He had always wished to have those same curls; but being Rome's grandchild meant he had the one delicate curl he had to protect from being touched.

Spain's body stretched out in his sleep as he rolled over and faced Romano with a smile on his face. Romano wanted to wake Spain up, because he could tell he was having a perverted dream. But, instead he recognized what went on in Spain's head was none of his business. He callously took his fingers away from Spain's and crawled out from bed.

After washing his face and placing on some uncouth clothing he carefully went outside to the tomato field he had surrounding the house and began watering the multitude of plants. Spain had taught him how delicate tomatoes are to grow and how they needed special care every day. Thus every morning, before even taking care of his own needs he would always water the growing buds first.

The sun kissing his bronze hair always made him smile on the inside. His crisp white shirt would always be drenched in the sweat he produced as he leaned down making sure every tomato was taken care of. He could remember Spain doing the same thing when he was just a boy. He always grew the best tomatoes with all his hard work. The feeling of the soft, but strong, tomato skin, which he worked so hard to produce, would make his morning brighter. He would secretly anticipate the harvest.

He was so excited and anxious to see how the tomatoes would taste he barely noticed the Spaniard leaning out the window amorously watching.


	10. Chapter 10

Spain nonchalantly leaned from the window, his face resting in the palm of his hand, allowing the breeze to frizzle his already bed-worn hair. The morning sun kissed his tanned skin and beckoned him to rise, despite him being worn from nearly no sleep. But when he had finally fallen his subconscious ran wild with images of Romano. He even woke up with the devious smile he wore in the dream.

As Romano leaned down to care for the tomatoes that cautiously grew close to the ground; due to their fear or soaring to the heavens and never making it there, Spain caught a glimpse of tight muscles through the crisp white shirt. Romano's thin shoulder-blades pointing outward sticking to the soaked material.

'The news said it was going to be a scorcher today,' Spain thought to himself, 'maybe I should get him some water before he dehydrates himself again' But as Spain went to turn away he caught a glimpse of Romano unbuttoning the shirt and rolling it into a ball. His eyes opened wide as he could see the supple muscle and bones through the bronzed skin as Romano stretched himself out. Spain could feel a problem growing in him; an animalistic urge to jump the smaller man, to take his dignity and get rid of it for the chance of euphoria.

As Romano leaned down to care for the tomatoes again he could feel his back burning. He figured it was just the sun and turned around to see how the sun was glaring at him. However, he soon realized the sun was east at the moment, but his back was burning to the west. When he turned around he saw Spain leaning from the window staring at the multitude of tomatoes in lust.

Or at least Romano thought it was the tomatoes…..

"Hey, you bastard! Catch this!" Romano yelled tossing his shirt, which Spain struggled to catch, "make sure you put it by the wash! I need to clean it after sweating so damn much."

"Sure, Romano, n-no problem," Spain uttered allowing the damp shirt to lull in his hands. He walked away from the window and sat on the bed where Romano wouldn't be able to look in and see him. He cautiously took the shirt up to his nose and cautiously took in the scent of soil and the sun's kisses; but deep inside the multitude of scents laid Romano's. A soft scent of basil and cinnamon that Spain had grown to love.

In Spain's mind images from his dream carelessly arose without his consent; images of Romano writhing under him, his gentle touches causing Romano to gasp for breath and throw his back into an arch, love bites on Romano's chest and arms. Him burying his face into Romano's neck as they climbed higher into ecstasy.

Spain caught himself and threw the shirt across the room. He rested on the side of the head and buried his face in his hands and combed his hair through his fingers. He began to curse himself.

"Where did these damned feelings come from? I raised the boy after all! I'm like his father! In his eyes," he admitted solemnly to himself, "In his eyes I will probably always be a father to him. Which makes all these feelings, these thoughts, this accursed fantasy, wrong. I could never make him love me. He'd probably always see that as incest."

He stood from the bed and picked the shirt up and walked into the hall weakly tossed it into the laundry-bin by the wash-room. He strode into the bathroom and washed his face and brushed his teeth, trying not to catch a glimpse of his eyes in the mirror. He glanced up at himself and knew if he kept being melancholy Romano would ask questions. He printed his signature smile on his face and got dressed in a bland tie-front shirt and jeans.

He made his way to the front door and screamed out, "Oi~ Romano! What ya want for breakfast?"

Romano turned around sending water from his hose to splash onto the crusted soil. "I would love a tomato omelet," he answered with a twinge of happiness in his voice only Spain could catch. Spain however became downcast and had to deliver the news that they had eaten the last tomato the night before. Romano twisted his face and stepped into the large multitude of green stalks and looked around for a minute. His smile was hidden by the large green leaves when he found what he sought.

Excitedly he ran over to Spain and opened his hands to reveal a plump, bright-red tomato. "Use this then," Romano said excitedly. Spain smiled and patted his head softly, causing Romano to growl in his throat. "S-stop it you bastard!"

"Yes, yes. I'll go cook this up for you," Spain said nearly singing, "Just finish up here. And make sure to shower before you come to eat. It'd be gross either wise."

"I'm not gross!" Romano growled at Spain.

"You're covered in sweat, mi amor~," Spain sang as he touched his finger to Romano's nose. Romano threw his hand at Spain's and knocked it away from him with a hard look in his eyes. Spain chuckled and re-entered the house.

As he entered the kitchen he tightened a large yellow apron around his waist and located all the ingredients he would need for the omelet. As he was warming the pan he heard the front door open and heavy footsteps walk on the hard wood floors to the bathroom. He chuckled to himself hearing Romano in his angry-state pouting past him. Romano always hated being sweaty and dirty; which made Spain wonder why he agreed to care for such a large tomato plantation by himself. Spain used to care for this plantation himself, but as his country got more powerful he had to leave it for months at a time. And after the fall of most of his power he couldn't afford to pay the workers to care for it.

He was thinking of selling the land to France for grapes or Germany to raise cattle. Spain remembered the day Romano ran up to him as a teenager and urged him to leave it to him. He had an urgent look on his face, and he couldn't blame the young man. He had grown up here. This small house they built themselves when Romano couldn't take living in such a large empty house anymore. Spain thought it would only be a few months before Romano tired of taking care of it, but he was amazed at how long the young man was keeping up with growing and shipping demands.

As he placed the eggs into the hot pan he heard the phone ringing obnoxiously loud. He reached to his left and placed the phone to rest between his shoulder and ear as he cautiously worked the eggs. "Hola~," he sang into the receiver. When the voice came through his face dropped. His boss was a venomous woman with an ill temper.

Especially when it came to Romano.

His boss yelled through the receiver that his vacation was over and he needed to return to discuss the uprisings in a war-torn country that needed help from the bigger countries. Spain knew he wouldn't be able to come up with any excuses to rid himself of his duties and solemnly agreed to return immediately. He asked his boss carefully who else would be attending. He was happy to hear that the fellow attendees weren't gluttonous countries who would propose dividing the land and making the meeting last months on end.

"Now come home from that brat's house and get your ass over here!" the woman yelled just before hanging the phone up, not allowing Spain to offer his defense for Romano. Spain carefully diced the tomatoes as he allowed his mind to race. He knew Romano wouldn't be too happy to be alone for so long. Goodness knows how long the meeting would be. With such a topic to discuss it could take a week or two. He sighed as he listened to the shower pipes ring in the other room.

He had an idea and picked up the phone once more, allowing himself to dial a familiar number.

"Veneziano~*. Are you busy? Good. Could you possibly do me a favor. Oh its not too hard. I just need you to look over Romano for a week or two while I'm away on business. I figured you two could catch up. Great! Thank you so much Ita-chan! Yes, yes. Well I'll be leaving tonight so you can come over tomorrow morning or afternoon. Thank you~! Adios~"

*Veneziano = Northern Italy is known as Italy Veneziano. (or Feliciano Vargas for his human name)


	11. Chapter 11

Spain was setting the plates on the table for the last few seconds as the omelets were cooking. He placed the large red plates next to the sparkling silverware and smiled reaching back for the spatula and carefully flipping the omelet. As they finished he took the pan over to the table and scooped the omelets onto the separate plates, making sure they both looked perfect.

"Dammit," a scream came from the other room, "Spain! Do me a favor and bring me some clothes, will ya?"

Spain froze in the kitchen looking over the freshly set table with a blush over his cheeks. "Ro-Romano? W-what do you need?"

"I forgot to bring a damn change of clothes with me into the bathroom. Mind bringing me some?"

Spain quickly dropped his pan and spatula into the sink and went into Romano's room. He began rummaging through his dresser for anything Romano would find comfortable after being in the warm sun. He settled on the black tank-top and shorts before turning around. He then realized Romano would also need underwear too. Spain's hands shook as he gently opened up the top drawer of the dresser. The soft oak creaking as it exposed the large array of boxers Romano carelessly threw in there. Spain dug his hands in there and pulled out a pair of small black boxers and ran out of the room and stood before the bathroom door with his hand stuck to the knob.

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he came to the realization Romano was naked behind the large wooden blockade. The man he wanted to hold so strongly was standing there exposed.

'Oh what I would give to hold him now,' Spain's devious mind slipped out before he was able to catch himself. He took a breath, calming himself, and pushed through the door and entered the bathroom. He looked down completely as he nearly ran to the sink and places the clothes on the ledge. Behind him Romano lay in a tub of cold water, cooling himself off as he watched Spain clumsily catch his feet on the carpet.

"Thanks," Romano said quietly as his face flushed and he looked into the water.

"No problem," Spain responded and instinctively turned around. He blushed madly as he saw Romano's large, toned body lying in the water nonchalantly. He could see tiny beads of sweat and bathwater running along Romano's collarbone and arms. His fingertips gently dropped water into the tub after their long journey from his hair.

Spain blush a deep scarlet and ran out of the room before Romano's body lead him to break and re-enact his most devious fantasies. He ran to the kitchen and held a paper towel to his face allowing it to soak up the scarlet life. In the next room he could hear the water from the tub being sucked away and the rummaging of the young man putting on his clothes. Spain quickly threw away the towels and sat at the table acting nonchalant with a cookbook in his hands. Romano entered the room and leaned on the doorframe before entering the room and grabbing a soda from the fridge. He didn't, however, take his seat. He went behind Spain and looked into the book before taking it in his hands and flipping it around.

"It might be easier to read if it weren't upside-down," Romano remarked before he dug into his omelet. Spain blushed and threw the book onto the counter next to him as he chuckled nervously.

"S-si~," he chuckled not touching his omelet.

"You're acting weird," Romano growled as he bit into a large chunk of tomato ravenously. Spain looked down at his plate and nudged the orange omelet with his fork softly allowing tomatoes to pour out.

"I-It's cause I have something to tell you," he blurted out. At his unusually serious tone Romano dropped his fork and looked up at Spain confused. "I-I have to go away for about a week or two…maybe more or less. You know about those riots far away and how some of the countries need to help them…and I was called to help them. I'm sorry Romano, I know I was supposed to stay longer but, business is business."

Romano felt his body shrivel up inside and his shoulders tense, but he took up his fork again and took another large bite. "Whatever," he spat out sourly, "when ya leavin'?"

Spain chocked down a small bite as he heard the hurt tone in Romano's voice. He knew Romano'd never admit it…but he'd miss him. "L-later today…like...right after breakfast."

Romano dropped his fork feeling something inside him drop. He regretted eating so much now because he felt as if he were going to vomit. Spain was explaining how long it would take to reach the conference and come to a decision on what to do and how he should be expected to be gone a week at least. Romano felt his body shrivel up on the inside as the younger him shouted in his heart: "I don't want to be alone!" But all he could muster up as Spain finished talking was, "whatever!"

Spain took his plate and cleared it off before heading to his room and packing his things, leaving Romano to sit alone in the dining room. He took his plate and threw away the rest of his food clutching his belly like he was about to throw up. He quietly walked over to Spain's doorframe and leaned on it as Spain went back and forth from his bed, where the suitcase lay, and the wardrobe in the corner of the room. When Spain was done packing the suitcase was over-stuffed and bulbously protruding. Spain was having obvious trouble trying to zip it up and was cursing under his breath. Romano walked over wordlessly and sat atop of the suitcase and motioned for Spain to try zipping it up again. Spain smiled and reached around Romano zipping it up successfully.

Romano jumped off the suitcase and made his way to the other room and cracked open a book about gardening. He wanted anything to keep his eyes and heart away from dealing with the sight of Spain leaving. Spain came out from his room and placed his luggage next to his door, noticing Romano on the couch sunken into his book. He sighed and walked to the back of the couch placing his hands on the back cushions.

"You gonna be ok here?"

"Fine"

"You sure? You'll get lonely I think."

"I'll be fine! Nothing I can't handle," Romano said hurting. Spain places his arms around Romano's neck and gave him a soft hug from behind. He buried his face into Romano's hair and took a deep breath he tried to cover up with a sigh. He wanted to remember this smell every night he was away. The strong smell of cinnamon and mangoes from Romano's shampoo softly mucked over with the smell of water from his bath. He allowed the water to drip down on his cheeks, in lieu of tears for now.

"I'll be lonely," Spain admitted, "I'm going to miss my little Roma," He joked before letting go. Romano felt a large streak warm his face and couldn't look back at Spain as he unlocked the door and walked out. Romano waited a few seconds before jumping from the couch and running to the window that looked out to the tomato field in front of the house. He saw Spain loading his luggage into a taxi at the end of the dirt road leading from the house. He sprinted to the door and opened it wide and stepped out and ran to the middle of the road.

"Travel safe you bastard!" He screamed at the top of his lungs causing Spain to turn around. He looked at him and smiled with a thumb up before couching into the back of the car. The lone Romano walked back to the house as he saw the car pulling away in the reflection of the windows.

When he was safely inside again he looked around the house. The scent of Spain still lingered around in the air. Romano felt his chest clenching up, reminiscing about when Veneziano was taken away by Austria many years ago. Romano helplessly kneeled onto the floor and felt his body go numb. He knew it was stupid to worry about, but he wondered if Spain would ever return. This house was smaller than the one he was left alone is as a child, but it felt grander than ever without the jovial man bouncing around.

"I-I don't want to be alone, dammit," Romano felt himself weakly admitted allowing his voice to crack. He clutched at the small rug that stood before the door as he leaned his back against the door looking into the empty house. Not allowing himself to realize he was a part of this home.

No…house…

It was Spain that made this large construction of wood and stone feel like a home. Without him it wasn't a home…just a house. Just a large building full of things and memories that only those who made it a home would know.

Romano stood up after some time and placed himself back on the couch. He placed the book in his lap and began half-heartedly reading it. However, as Romano reached the section on how tomatoes were brought mostly from Spain after colonizing America he found tiny dark spots forming on the bright white sheets. He gently touched it and found it to be moist to the touch. He noticed him not being able to breathe as easily and noticed his eyes burning slightly. His shaking hand reached up and swiped at something tickling his cheek and found himself pulling away from his face with a wet hand.

He hadn't even noticed himself crying…

He threw the book across the room and buried his face into his hands allowing his shoulders to slack. He ran from the couch into the hall and threw open Spain's door and glanced around the empty room. As the door opened the strong scent of Spain's body hit Romano straight-on and in his mind images of Spain resurfaced. He could feel the strong arms around his neck and the soothing voice near his ears.

He collapsed on the bed and felt cradled by Spain's many pillows and gently fell asleep, allowing Spain's scent to fool him into thinking Spain was next to him. His face pushed into the little tomato-shaped pillow Spain gave him as a child to sleep on whenever he would enter his room in the middle of the night. The thoughts of his childhood with Spain kept Romano asleep throughout the night.

He woke up the next morning to a knocking on the door. He absent-mindedly thought it to be the same day, forgetting having slept. He ran to the door clutching the pillow close to his chest excitedly. "Did you forget something, Spain?" He said throwing open the door. Instead he saw before him a small man in a robins-egg blue suit. The bright orange-hair of his guest hit the sun and shone brightly, making him look angelic. Romano froze in the doorway for a second gaining his words, "V-Veneziano…what are you doing here?"

His little brother held up the large suitcase he had at his side, "Spain called me to come here so you wouldn't be lonely~," he sang. Romano was reluctant to allow Veneziano into the house but after looking at him smiling there for a full minute he stepped aside and motioned for him to step in. Veneziano managed to pull in his suitcase and stare around the room wide-eyed.

"Its so pretty in here~," he sang, "I love big-brother's color choices~." Romano huffed past him and entered the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his hair as Veneziano looked around. When he re-emerged from the bathroom he saw Veneziano in the kitchen preparing something in a large pot.

"The hell ya think you're doing?" he said leaning on the doorframe staring at Veneziano's back as it jumped slightly. Veneziano turned around and smiled widely as he held up a spoon dripping with red-sauce.

"Pasta, Roma~. Its breakfast since you just woke up!"

"I just had a tomato omle-," he began but was suddenly interrupted by his stomach letting out a large growl. Veneziano giggled and went back to stirring happily as Romano came to the realization that Spain had left the day before…and he had slept all through the night just dreaming of Spain. He looked down at the tomato pillow and realized he has slept in Spain's bed. He ran to Spain's room and threw it onto the bed hurriedly before returning to the kitchen.

"Veneziano, I'm going to eat first then go take care of the tomatoes like I always do," He announced taking his seat at the table, "while I'm working you can put your things away."

"Where do I put them?" Veneziano turned around with red sauce dripping from his chin. Romano cursed and stood again taking a paper towel and rubbing his chin clean. Veneziano found himself surprised at how soft Romano's hand was as it held his cheek in place as he was cleaned. He began admiring Romano's soft gold eyes carefully assessing the amount of sauce on his chin and seeing if it became completely clean. He had always adored his brother from afar…

But up close was so much different…

Veneziano found his cheeks turning red but smiled and scratched the back of his head offering his apologies to Romano as he turned and threw away the paper towel. He turned back to the sauce touching his warm cheeks curiously. After a few minutes it went away and he managed to complete and serve the large bowl of pasta he had generously created. Romano's belly ached at the large amount he was served, but after having not eaten all the day before he was gracious for such a meal.

Romano sighed after he finished his meal and thanked Veneziano for going through all the trouble. He was on his way out of the kitchen when Veneziano asked once more, "Fratello*, w-where can I put my things?"

"Oh…yeah," Romano froze for a second in thought; "Well I suppose you can put everything in my room. Since you'll be staying all this week you'll use my room and I'll use Spain's. Sound good to you?"

"Si~," Veneziano answered slurping down another al dente noodle happily.

"Good," Romano said leaving the kitchen and leaving the house completely to care for his tomatoes.

Veneziano finished his pasta mountain and took his suitcase down the hall to Romano's room and set it on the bed. He took out his many shirts and pants and placed them in a large chair in the corner until his brother could remove his own clothes from the drawers. As he finished unpacking he felt weary and laid himself upon the large bed. The white sheets were immaculately clean, but they held the strong scent of its owner.

When Veneziano placed his head upon the pillow he found the strong scent of his brother's hair; the strong smell of cinnamon layering atop basil. In his head he could see his brother's strong back and dark hair, reminiscent of Grandpa Rome, except smaller, and more approachable. He wanted to grab his brother and hug him as he used to as a child. He knew Romano would probably be unwelcoming to such a surprise hug but he still wanted it so badly.

Romano finished caring for all the tomatoes near the late noon. As the tomatoes grew it would become increasingly more difficult to care for them. He was surprised to come into the house, covered in sweat with his shirt rolled under his arm, to smell native Italian cooking. Usually, after such a long, strenuous day he would smell paella. Spain's favorite dish. But today he smelled pizza with home-made everything! He could tell every inch of the delectable dish was made from scratch. When he entered the kitchen he saw Italy happily watching the pizza in the oven.

…Really, he was sitting in front of the oven watching it like a TV…

Romano put his face in his hands and walked past the kitchen on the way to take a cooling shower. "He may not be the brightest, but he sure as hell can cook…," Romano thought undressing and putting himself in the cold water.

After his bath he entered the kitchen in his black tank top, his hair still dripping. His brother spotted him entering and smiled at him before jumping up with a towel and standing tip-toe to reach Romano's head to dry his hair. "Fratello! You need to make sure to dry your hair well or else you'll catch a cold~," he whined.

"Whatever," Romano said taking the towel and drying it himself with one hand and pushing his brother on the shoulder with one hand so he'd stop standing tip-toe. He looked at his brother and saw the genuinely worried expression hanging on his face and a slight redness around his cheeks. He thought it meant he was about to cry. Romano sighed and patted his brother's pumpkin orange hair. "I'll dry it well from now on, Veneziano."

Veneziano smiled and began serving the large pizza he had worked so hard to make. The kitchen was covered in flour and tomato bits. The counter would need serious cleaning. But as the brothers ate the pizza and began talking about how Spain and Austria raised them, they knew it was worth it. When the meal was done the enormous pizza was completely gone and both brothers felt like they were about to explode.

"I'll clean this all up," Veneziano smiled, "You worked so hard today~. Let me take care of the mess I made."

"If you insist," Romano said taking a look around the disastrous mess, "Today was a scorcher, so I'm just going to head to bed…"

"Bella Note fratello**~. Don't let the bed bugs bite~!" Veneziano smiled rolling up his sleeves and filling the sink full of water.

"Si~ Bella note," Romano replied heading into Spain's room and immediately falling asleep among the ever-present smell of Spain. He hugged his face into his pillow and slept on his side facing the wall.

Veneziano finished cleaning the kitchen and carefully went into Romano's room and crawled into his pajamas. When he slid in between the covers he was ambushed with the scent and images his brain conjured of Romano. He shivered in his body and tried to cancel them all out of his mind… but as he dug his face into the pillow, or pulled the covers up to his chin, Romano would fill his mind.

He found himself slowly sliding out of bed and standing before Spain's bedroom door. He placed his hand on the knob and slowly opened the door, cringing at every creak the door made on its way open.

The moonlight entering from the window illuminated the silhouette of Romano that lay on the bed. Veneziano carefully placed himself on the bed and looked at the peaceful expression his usually militant brother wore. He leaned down and took in the full sight of his brother sleeping as he carefully patted his hair. His hand ran down the side of Romano, adoring the soft skin and underlying muscles on his chest. As he kept petting Romano rolled onto his side and faced Veneziano face-to-face.

Veneziano looked at the way his soft hair was hit by the moon. He was worried he'd wake at any moment. But seeing him so defenseless and serene made Veneziano burn on the inside. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, allowing their bangs to mix softly.

"Germany taught me this," Veneziano whispered lowering himself and gently licking the tip of Romano's hair curl. In his sleep Romano's face twisted and he rolled back on his side away from his brother. Veneziano smiled and lay down next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist from behind.

"Mi sei mancato, fratello***," he whispered into his ear and he lay himself on the pillow behind his brother, burying his face in his hair, "sei mancato terribilment****"

"S-Spain, a-are you sure this is okay," Romano asked through soft pants looking down at Spain's hair. Spain removed Romano's member from his mouth and looked up at him.

"Why wouldn't it be Lovi?" He grinned and went back to it causing Romano to yelp and arch his back.

"C-cause it feels too good. I-It must be s-sin!" He shouted as Spain hit a sweet spot. Spain chuckled and shoved him further a few times before looking up again.

"And that's why it's okay, Lovi." Spain cooed cupping Romano's face in a hand as the other played teasingly with his nether-regions. Romano began panting and grabbed the crisp white sheets under him. Spain only smiled and began planting kissed down his chest, stopping only to run his tongue over the salmon-colored nipples. Soon enough Spain reached the neglected item and ran his tongue down his length before taking it in his mouth again and gently nibbling on the tip whenever he moved up.

Romano bit the back of his hand hard trying to suppress a scream until he couldn't any further and grabbed the sheets harder as the tingling pleasure coursed through his fingers. His toes pointed northward as Spain placed his legs atop his shoulders and began running his fingers against his opening teasingly.

"A-Antonio!" Romano screamed aloud as Spain pushed in the first finger. Spain chuckled at the name Romano barely used for him, knowing this was Romano's way of saying "it feels good".

He was in heaven~

Spain gasped awake and sat up in his bed looking around the room curiously. He was searching for the subtle Italian in his bed before realizing that it wasn't his bed. He sighed and placed his hands on his forehead and cursed himself for it only being a dream. He knew the real Romano wouldn't be as eager as dream Lovi was.

Unless he got him drunk…

Spain shook the thought out of his head and growled. He knew he would never have the heart to take advantage of a drunken Romano. Sure, if he was back in his teenage years with his ear-rings and pirate crew, but not as the Spain he was now.

He growled in his throat and went to lie on his stomach so he could bury his face in the pillows but felt a sharp pain when he rolled over. He quickly turned himself so he could see if he was hurt or cramping, but saw himself fully awake. The dream awoke a certain part of him and was staring him in the face through his boxers.

Spain sighed and lay on his side trying to forget it, but images of a willing Romano, with pleasure twisting on his face crept up, making the back of his neck burn red as he blushed. After some time he couldn't manage to quell it anymore and tore off his tomato-patterned boxers. He reached down and grasped himself firmly. As he began pumping he imagined his little Lovi's long tanned fingers running along his length instead of his own.

Spain panted hard and arched his back as he began hitting his sweet spot over and over quickly. He remembered in his dream Romano's subtle lips giving him directions to his own pleasure; Romano's face twisted and screaming out his name. The magical sound of Romano screaming his name, blushing and panting, sent Spain over the edge, sending his seed to pile on the sheets.

Spain lay down on his pillow panting looking down on himself. He rolled over on his side and looked outside the window to see stars seemingly only inches away from the grass. He stood up on the cold tile floor and walked to the window stark naked. He placed a hand on the glass and looked down at the street fifteen stories below him. On the hotel were the nations flags, and he noticed the small Italian one gently rustling in the breeze. He wondered if Romano were ok, if he was crying, if Veneziano had arrived yet, if he was sleeping soundly, if he missed him at all. A small image of Romano on crisp white sheets urging him closer passed Spain mind for a second. He ran a hand through his hair and cursed himself. He knew his damn lustful ways towards Romano could very well be the end of them.

Around the table many big-time countries sat arguing with each other and not reaching any conclusion to the problems sitting right before them. America was boasting about his military power that could quench the uprisings in the foreign lands. The United Kingdom, of course, argues how more violence would not solve violence. Spain considered himself lucky France wasn't there to ignite more tension and controversy in the room. Greece and he, however, were left in the corner of the table left to only watch the infantile countries bicker amongst themselves.

"Those up risers are only angry cause they aren't getting their way! If we show them what we can do they'll back off and realize we know best!" America yelled across the table in his usually anxious voice.

"No, you git, they'll just realize they need to get tougher and we'll have a full blown rebellion!" England scoffed sipping his tea. America began screaming a long winded monologue on how America was so innovative compared to England. England just laughed and retorted, "Yeah so that's why all your famous musicians sound the same right now. Making 13 year olds pee themselves with excitement. How innovative…moron."

Spain rested his head on the table and wished the other countries would calm down and look at the problem before them logically. To pass the time he began daydreaming about his cute little Romano watering the plump tomatoes. "They'll be ready to harvest soon," Spain thought to himself happily, "I'll have to think of a good recipe to celebrate." He rested his face on the wooden table and nuzzled into it sleepily.

His mind wandered back to the little green house surrounded by soft, plump tomatoes nearly ready for picking. But all Spain cared about was his own little tomato amongst them gently inspecting each little bulb sweetly. His mind went inside the house to see a little Veneziano preparing a meal heartily in the kitchen, causing a catastrophe of a mess everywhere. Spain sighed and kept looking at Romano in his mind; sweating in the strong sunlight, causing him to drink straight from the hose as he watered. Spain nearly drooled and thought to himself "so cute, so cute~," over and over again. Until his dream crept back in his mind as Romano leaned over to pluck some weeds, allowing his Italian-flag-pattern boxers to peek from the top of his jeans.

He blushed wildly, but didn't tear his eyes away from the daydream-Romano. When he was done with his plants he came inside and ate a happy, long meal with Veneziano, which warmed Spain heart fully, until he noticed the shimmer of a blush on Veneziano's face. Spain sat down with them, knowing he couldn't be seen, and stared at Italy threateningly. He could feel his younger, pirate self mockingly say inside him, "Just try it bitch! See how it works out for you in the end!"

He was pulled out of his daydreaming when America hit the table with his fists and began screaming at the United Kingdom about all his accomplishments without being bonded with the UK. Spain sighed and scratched his head, "You sound like an old divorced couple," he said aloud sending menacing glares from America and the UK his way. He just smiled back at them and slipped back into daydreaming.

The sun had finally switched places with its sister and allowed her soft rays to illuminate the Earth softly, giving it a well-needed break from her brother's harshness. The tomatoes shone white in the light like small light-bulbs. Spain strode through the field and back into the house singing happily at returning home. The house was shrouded in darkness but Spain knew his way and briskly walked down the hall straight to Romano's room. He opened the door expecting Romano to be lying angelically asleep in his small white sheets.

White sheets…like his dream.

Spain covered his face that became red as a setting sun and ran over to the bed and buried his face in Romano's pillows gripping at the scent. However, it only smelled like that last sniff he sneakily took as he was saying goodbye. That's when he became aware of the lack of Romano or Veneziano's presence in the bed.

Spain stood quickly and looked around the room, expecting at least one of them to be asleep on the chair in the corner, but nothing was in the room. He opened the door quickly and walked the few feet to his door. It seemed like he had to walk an entire desert to reach the small oak door. He placed his hand on the knob and closed his eyes as he entered the room. His heart was beating a storm as he put his feet on his wooden floor and looked to the bed.

With horror he saw little Veneziano leaning over Romano, HIS Romano, licking his hair curl sensually emitting tiny coos from the unconscious Italian. Spain ran to the bed horrified and attempted to throw Italy off the bed and far away from his Romano. But he found himself not being able to grasp the phantom daydream. "No! Get away from him! He's mine!" Spain began shouting hoping Italy would hear him.

Spain sat up at his chair and rubbed his eyes hoping it was all just some crooked daydream. He didn't mean to doze off so far to allow his mind do whatever it wished. Even with its crooked fantasy of Veneziano loving his brother like that…

Like Spain did…

But they were alone in that house…

Spain was far away…

What if they…

Spain grew furious at his own delusions and pounded his fists on the table effectively quieting the bickering between nations and getting scared glances his way. His younger side showed through his furious emerald eyes that pierced every soul in the room.

"Let's just fucking get to the problem, solve it, and get the hell out of here!" Spain screamed at the top of his lungs causing America and the UK to sit down and grow pale at his glare. Spain stood up and shuffled his papers on the table before describing the problem uprisings. He couldn't hide the anger in his voice as he made a long winded monologue on how to fix the problems. "Think about it," he hissed as he finished his talk, "if we do as I proposed the people would be happy and after all a country is nothing more than its people!" He took his papers and shoved them into his jacket pocket as he kicked the door open and stormed out of the room.

He didn't care if they came to his conclusion on how to fix things…

He didn't care if they reached their own while he wasn't there…

He just wanted his Romano, and to punch Italy in the face if what he dreamt was true.

He could feel his stomach churn nauseously as he strode down the long marble hallway he'd become so numb to. Workers, terrified of his horrid green eyes, placed their back to the walls in an attempt to get out of his way.

Spain brushed past them and into the street. All he had to do was wait for a conclusion and talk to the Queen before he could go to Romano. To go home.

*Fratello = brother (Italian)

** Bella Note, fratello =Good night brother (Italian)

*** Mi sei mancato, fratello = I've missed you brother (Italian)

**** sei mancato terribilment = missed you terribly (Italian)


	12. Chapter 12

Note: to save time and a lot of un-needed chapters lets just assume that Romano and Veneziano's life together pretty much goes like chapters 11 and 12 for around 3 days~

Even though his feet were getting tired in their tight black shoes, and the terrain ripped his skin, he tried hard to keep his pace with the hand that was holding his. The large purple coat would shield his eyes from seeing where they were heading. His tiny, red scarf flew away in the wind and caught on a large branch.

Veneziano removed himself from the aggressive grip on his own and ran after it trying to jump up and get it. His fingertips barely brushed against the tip of it when he felt himself jerked forcefully away from it; the red was fading into the distance slowly. He felt tears beginning to fall at the corners of his eyes and his nose plugging. He tried struggling against the grip but he proved too strong.

"Listen! That is your past," the large man said pointing in the direction of the scarf, "you don't need that anymore! From now on you are my territory! Mine! So stop struggling so vehemently to attain a silly little scarf!"

Italy cowered and folded into himself as the large man scolded him. He wanted to tell him that Grandpa Rome gave him and Romano matching scarves to keep them together, and that was all he had left of Grandpa Rome; but instead he bit back his words and only allowed himself to cry silently as he followed obediently.

"I'm still a part of fratello*," Italy thought silently to himself, "Fratello will come save me when he can, right? Right?"

The large, point-roofed house came into view; the large cathedral-like walls with colored-glass windows all around. The large domain was surrounded in cobble stones and men in various military uniforms with spears in their hand. Veneziano nearly screamed as they approached the wooden gate as men stared down at him grinning and mocking his every move.

"Fratello," he thought to himself," help me, fratello!" They entered the large house to see more militant men and overly-fancy furniture. At least more fancy than Veneziano was used to. He was taken into a shady room with only a little cot for a bed and a shamble of a wardrobe in the corner. The large man threw a pair of clothes at him.

"Put these on." He demanded. Veneziano looked over the clothes noticing their holes and patches. A tiny rope around the pants was a make-shift belt. He then looked at his own garb that Grandpa Rome had dressed him in. The pristine white vestments that buttoned all down the front with cloth-head buttons. He swallowed hard in his throat and gathered his courage.

"N-no!"

"What did you just say, you little wretch!" He growled.

"I will not wear such ratty clothes! It's a disgrace to a descendant of Rome!" The little Italian retorted holding his arms to his side trying to appear larger.

The large man walked out of the room locking it for a second. Veneziano breathed easy thinking he had won the fight, until the man returned with a large leather snake wound in his hand. He put the snake on his belt as he fought Veneziano to remove his clothes. Once he was completely bare he was ordered to go against the wall with his arms spread.

"Don't you ever disobey me again," he said taking up the whip. Veneziano cringed hearing him test it close to his head on the wall. "Brace yourself," the voice came again. The whip came crashing down on his back.

"Fratello! Help me!" Veneziano screamed, "fratello!"

The bluish light of the morning came in through the windows and began to play softly against the faded-green and orange wallpaper. Romano's eyes were hit with the light that played off the wall he was facing. He always hated the mornings and growled in his throat as he buried his face into the pillow. He figured if he ignored or intimidated the mornings they would go away until he wanted to get up, but that was never the case and rolled onto his back to relax before he had to care for the tomatoes.

He could feel a limp hand lulling over his stomach. He drowsily opened his eyes and peeked over only to see his little brother nonchalantly slumbering next to him. His other hand pushed up to his mouth which emitted near-silent slumber-breaths. Veneziano's tank top drooped low to show his small chest muscles going to and fro in time with his breath. Romano couldn't help but feel a twinge of adoration for his little brother being so cute. He'd always wished to be as cute as Veneziano, but he couldn't bring himself to be as much as an air-head, since that was his charm.

However, with little Veneziano next to him Romano felt the pit of his stomach grow aflame with envy. "Why the hell were you given all the cuteness and I the leftovers! I'm the oldest! I should have the prime genes! Grandpa Rome gave you everything!" He yelled in his head seeing his brother's graceful figure laid out along the mattress next to him. He lifted his arm to punch his brother awake and push him from the bed, when a little voice passed through unconscious lips.

"Nngh~ fratello~," Veneziano smiled snuggling himself closer to Romano. Romano lowered his fist and lay against the mattress looking at Veneziano's unconscious, smiling face. His bright orange hair kissed by the sun's rays. Romano's hand, instead, went up to Veneziano's head and began patting it softly. The warmth from his brother warmed the palm of his hand and amazed Romano. He'd never expected his brother to be so warm and his hair so soft. He felt a blush creep across his face and he removed his hand.

"The hell am I blushing for?" he thought to himself as he swung his feet over the floor and stood up. His bones groaned and cracked as he threw his arms in the air and over his neck, tensing his back. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his face to remove everything from the corner of his eyes. He groaned and yawned as he removed his nightshirt and searched the cupboard for a new one.

As he closed the drawer with a clack he heard a slight "coo" from behind him. He turned around and saw Veneziano propping himself up on the bed rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His hair tangled around his neck and when he ran his hands through it he winced as he pushed past them. As he was stretching his arm across his back he opened his eyes and looked upon Romano standing at the foot of the bed holding some spare clothes.

Veneziano blushed slightly looking upon Romano's bare shoulders and chest, which revealed a multitude of muscles only visible from slight shading made by the sun hitting his back. However, he knew he would have to play innocent so his brother wouldn't be able to see the obvious adoration he was paying to his body. Veneziano giggled slightly and crawled out of bed stretching.

"It's been so long since I've slept in the same bed as fratello~," he sang through a yawn.

"Why the hell did you even do that," Romano said with an aggravated tone, "I gave you a perfectly good bed down the hall!"

Veneziano placed his index finger tips together and began to push on them sheepishly. "I had a nightmare~ and I didn't want to be alone. So I thought it would be okay if I slept behind you…"

"Don't get used to it!" Romano scowled opening the door. Veneziano scurried to the door with a pathetic look on his face and grabbed Romano's hand.

"W-where are you going?"

Romano felt pity in his heart for his younger brother. The dream he suffered the night before must have been horrible. He reached out and patted the younger on the top of his head soothingly. "I was just going to take a bath. I wasn't leaving forever, Veneziano." He feigned annoyance. Veneziano looked up at him longingly, his amber eyes sparkling with remnants of tears left from the nightmare. He kept a firm grasp on Romano's hand as it fell to his side.

"Why don't we take a bath toghether~?"

Romano's face fell as he stared at his brother square in the eyes. "How the hell could he even propose to do that! Bastard!" He pursed his mouth together and sent a glare at his brother, but he could see Veneziano was truly afraid from some specter and didn't want to be alone.

Or that's what Romano thought at least…

He growled in his throat before turning away, but keeping his hand where Veneziano could hold it for comfort. "D-Do what ya want, you bastard!" He said crossing the hall with Veneziano in tow. He entered the bathroom and threw the extra clothes he had on the counter. Veneziano let go of Romano's hand and reached down to remove his shirt and boxers.

"Hey! Do that over there!" Romano scowled pointing to the other side of the bathroom.

"Why," Veneziano asked honestly curious, "we're both men here, fratello, there's nothing I'll see on you that I haven't already seen~."

Romano scowled and looked his brother deep in the eyes trying to ignore the obvious nakedness under them, "It's just the principle of it! Two naked men should not see each other naked!"

"We're not naked men," Veneziano giggled leaping to capture Romano in a hug, "we're naked brothers~!"

Veneziano hit the wall softly after Romano pushed him off. Romano leaned over the side of the tub and turned on the water and checked the temperature as it ran over his hand. After it had reached a suitable temperature he placed the stop over the hole and let the tub fill.

Veneziano watched, absent-mindedly wide-eyed, as Romano threw his legs over the side of the tub and sat down near the faucet. He adored his brother's back as he leaned down to place his head under the faucet and allowed the comforting water run over his hair and neck; his small, tender shoulder blades peeking through the skin. Veneziano felt a small streak run across his cheeks as he sat against the wall watching Romano's back be cascaded by water. He tried to hide it by hiding behind his hands. Romano finished rinsing his hair and looked over at the wall where Veneziano sit.

"Hey, you comin' in or what? If not put on your clothes and leave!"

Veneziano looked up at his brother and saw his bronze hair dripping down onto his muscular arms, which lay on his crossed legs in the water. Veneziano giggled awkwardly as he stood up and made his way into the tub behind Romano. He kept his face as a plastered smile as Romano leaned back down to rinse his hair just a bit more. Veneziano wanted to run his fingers along his shoulder blades and vertebrae that peeked through the tanned skin. His mouth nearly watered as the water ran along them in his stead.

He began searching his head for any reason to be able to touch the pristine caramel skin that lay out like a buffet before him. A soap bottle hit his eyes and he smiled deviously as he reached for it and poured some of it into his hand. "Romano~ mind if I wash your back for you~," he nearly sang trying to seem eager to help instead of just eager to touch the overwhelming skin. All he got from Romano was a grunt so he figured it was okay and began to send suds over Romano's back.

He ran his hands down Romano's back softly savoring each muscle he felt under his fingers and blushing slightly as he felt them move in time with Romano. Veneziano took a deep breath trying to savor each sense in the room. The soap smelled sweet like cilantro and mangos, which made him smile brightly as he rinsed it off the skin with small handfuls of water.

Once the soap was removed Romano turned around in the tub to reveal a large glass of water in his hands, which he poured over Veneziano's head. "You need to get clean too, bastard," he said sweetly despite his usual language. Veneziano smiled as Romano placed shampoo in his hair and massaged it in. He had the usual scowl plastered on his face, but he had to care for his little brother too. Veneziano tried to keep his gaze from falling downward to see Romano's obvious nakedness. He tried his best to keep his gaze on Romano's face and keep his normal smile among his face.

"Tilt your head up, or else you'll get soap in your eyes," Romano said sending another large cupful of water cleaned out his hair of soap. He smiled widely feeling Romano's warm hand tilting his head back softly and ushering the water downward. Romano ran his hand back over Veneziano's bangs a few times to make sure the water wouldn't drip into his eyes. The corner of his mouth curled up when he was satisfied Veneziano's eyes wouldn't burn.

He stood up and patted Veneziano on the head softly as he threw his legs back over the side of the tub and onto the plush bathmat. Once he had placed a towel on his head and was working blindly to dry his hair Veneziano allowed himself to blush deeply and cover his face.

"I saw everything!" his head screamed at his sending him to blush deeper. His mind kept replaying when Romano stood stark naked in front of him. "I was eye to eye with-"he thought before dunking his head under the water trying childishly to keep the thought at bay. He felt a hand on the back of his neck yank him out of the water and brush the water from his face.

"The fuck you trying to do," the voice growled, "You're going to get soap all over your eyes and it's going to stink like a bitch! You know?" The hand gently swiped its thumbs over the eyelashes and eyebrows trying to keep as much water away as it could. Veneziano just smiled and allowed an already-damp towel be pushed into his face. "Che palle**! Stop trying to hurt yourself! Clumsy bastard!"

"Sorry, fratello," Veneziano smiled allowing Romano to rustle his hair with the towel. Romano just sighed and squeezed the extra water out of bright orange hair.

"Just get out of the tub and get dressed," Romano scowled as he finished and reached into the counter to retrieve a fresh towel. Veneziano stood up carefully in the tub allowing his body to drip until Romano threw him the towel and he wrapped it around himself. He began carefully drying himself off happily standing next to Romano, who was placing his tank top and shorts on.

"Going out to care for the tomatoes?"

"yep."

"Are they almost ready, fratello," Veneziano asked excitedly jumping up and down looking eagerly into Romano's honeycomb eyes.

"I expect them to be ready to harvest in three days. The harvest moon is coming then so I'll pick them at midnight." He scratched the back of his wet hair.

"I can't wait~ I can't wait~," Veneziano sung as he began placing on his boxers. "I'll prepare an extra special meal that day!"

Romano smiled and patted Veneziano on the head tenderly. Veneziano leaned into Romano's hand and savored the moment. But it left as suddenly as it came and Romano left the house to go finish preparing for the harvest by plucking the weeds and watering the plump tomatoes that made the vine slump over.

Veneziano dressed himself and made his way to the kitchen and began flipping through a large cookbook he had brought with him. "Now to make something delicious~," he clapped gathering ingredients. As he threw the tomato chunks into a frying pan to caramelize them his mind shot back into the bed and tub with Romano. He blushed deeply and chuckled to himself.

"Remember Spain, no matter what you do he is mine. My fratello~," he said low under his breath in a throaty voice, "and nothing, not even you can change that…"

Note: 3 days of collaboration has been going on and Spain has been pushing them to reach a decision soon.

"Romano! Where are you?" Spain screamed running through the layers and layers of green leaves searching desperately. "When did I see him last," Spain thought aloud under his breath "only fifteen minutes ago, where could he have gone off to? He was wearing….shit what WAS he wearing? Dammit!"

His tapered, brown pants caught on some of the wooden posts, but he would tear them out and end up tearing large patches in his pants. He frantically searched through the small orange buds of pre-mature tomatoes, sending some of them falling to the ground. He peered into the distance into the expanse of green and orange. Sweat was dripping from the back of his neck as his veins seemed to grow larger throughout his body.

"What if France…," he thought horrified. He quickly tried to shake that thought from his mind and began running into the tomatoes searching for the small boy. He was breathing heavy when he reached the area where the dirt road met the front of the house. His eyes burned as he made them scan every millimeter of the land that lay before him.

He began running to the left, breathing heavy and sending silent prayers to heaven for Romano's safety. "If France has touched a single hair on his head," Spain's body fired up with the thought, "I will make sure he tastes my battle axe! I will crush him till he weeps! I don't even care if we are friends!" His breath was heavy and he fell upon the dirt ground with a loud thud. He lay there prostrate banging his hands on the ground helpless. "dammit," he growled in his head. He sat on the ground nearly weeping wondering where little Romano had been taken. Wondering who he would have to kill…

"guu~ guu~," he heard from a bush next to him. He lifted his head and gently parted the leaves to get a view of Romano sleeping soundly. His breaths became easier as the rock in his lungs was removed seeing him lying there so peacefully. He jumped into the brush and took Romano up in his arms, trying not to cry. "Oi! Bastard! What the hell ya' doin'?" the little boy thrashed around. But Spain kept his large arms wrapped tightly around his little body and snuggled his face into his neck smelling the sweet smell of sunlight.

"Hugging you, of course," Spain chuckling, "ah~ I was worried about you, mi sol*."

The boy pushed on his face aggressively, but still not overpowering the older man, "the hell is a mi sol? Food? Don't eat me, bastard!" 

Spain chuckled and set Romano down as he took a seat so they were eye level. "It's not a food, Romano. Mi sol…in Italian would be Mio Sole*. I'm surprised you didn't guess that yourself, Romano," he said poking Romano on the nose lightly causing the little one to growl, "Our languages are so close after all."

The little one just scowled at Spain and crossed his arms, uttering a slew of curses under his breath. Normally, Spain would scold him for using such words, but after the scare he went through he was just so happy he wasn't taken away by France.

Spain sat up at bed and stared at the clock with a scowl. In bright red letters it read off 7:55. He wasn't even supposed to be up till ten. He shook his hands through his hair and silently cursed at whoever's bright idea it was to have white curtains to block off the sun. "Nice going dumb-ass," he thought sourly to himself lying back against the white sheets. He buried his face into his pillow and breathed heavily. He thought about his dream and smiled thinking of his cute little Romano.

"He's always been a potty mouth huh?" Spain chuckled to himself. He began to think of Romano at his house now, is he awake? If he was he'd be taking care of the tomatoes by now. "I hope I can be there when they're ready to harvest~," he thought eagerly grabbing his pillow and rolling around on the bed, effectively falling off.

He lay on the floor on his back looking up at the pure white ceiling with a blank stare. He sat up and looked around the room. "Why the hell is everything so white~? I miss home," he thought hugging the pillow, "I want my green and orange room back~." He stood up with his shoulders slumped and made his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee, reflecting on his dream and smiling widely. But as he began thinking deeper and deeper he began to wonder about Veneziano being with Romano now.

"I used to be afraid of France taking him, but now…I'm afraid there may be a person to be worried about a little more seriously than France." He sipped his coffee lightly savoring the strong flavor running over his tongue. He winced at the bitterness before adding a bit of crème and chocolate to it. He sighed sitting alone at the glass table looking over the morning's paper absently. "I need to get home," he thought to himself, "America was saying today would be the last day of the meeting where the consensus would be announced. So~ after that I talk to the queen and head home." He placed his head to the cold glass and looked up at the coffee cup which seemed monstrous now.

"If only it were that easy~."

As the nations piled into the room and took their seats, Spain sat absent-mindedly next to the sleeping Greece. He had arrived early eager to reach the conclusion of the uprisings epidemic. The sooner the meeting was done the sooner he would be able to talk to the queen.

"Gah! What's going to be my excuse for heading home early," Spain thought to himself as he continually hit the head of his pen to the paper. He placed his head in the palm of his hand as he began scribbling down any ideas that came to mind for excuses. He was so enraptured in trying to come up with a plausible excuse he didn't even hear as Greece sat up and cracked all the bones in his back and hands and yawned deeply. Greece peered over onto the rabid scrawling of Spain and managed to decipher most of it.

"You're queen…doesn't like Romano does she?" Greece drowsily said rubbing his eyes. Spain looked up and offered Greece a smile, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"N-no not at all. She thinks he's a brat, and he does come off like that sometimes but he's really not!"

Greece looked over lazily at Spain and placed his head on the desk so he was still looking up at Spain. "He's a good kid….deep down…I guess." Spain chuckled to himself and kept writing until his pen ran out of ink. He cursed under his breath and reached into his pocket for another pen but was surprised to find none. He sighed until he saw Greece handing him a mechanical pencil he often kept behind his ear. Normally Greece used the overused pencil to draw plans for digging routes when he found his mothers remains, but he figured Spain needed it more now than he did. All four days of the meetings he hadn't written a single word down (only doodles of the kittens he left in Greece to come to the meeting. Greece was secretly quite eager to get home as well).

Spain graciously accepted the pencil with many thanks, to which Greece nodded and watched Spain devour the paper in words and mutter things under his breath in Spanish.

"So, do you love him…Romano I mean…," Greece said quietly so only he and Spain could hear. Although Portugal and Turkey weren't in their seats to attend the meeting so being quiet wasn't necessary. In shock Spain pressed the pencil against the paper hard, breaking the lead as he stared at Greece wide eyed.

"Q-que," he said sheepishly.

"Romano…do you love him…you care for him an awful lot…I think," Greece said nonchalantly with a small smile on his face to show Spain he meant no harm with the question.

Spain stared at Greece agape before managing to say, "W-wh-what makes ya say that?"

Greece peered over at Spain and shrugged casually. "No reason, really. You just…take good care of him…and want to be with him a lot. So I figured…"

Spain chuckled as Greece gave his reasoning. "Am I really that transparent," he thought to himself, "dammit I gotta hide that better. But I think Greece can keep a secret…he's a good kid, very quiet."

As Greece put his head on the table again and looked straightforward Spain licked his lips and prepared to speak. His mouth grew dry, but he just swallowed what he could and began talking.

"Romano…he is a good kid. Very kind and considerate when he's not acting like an asshole. He grew up rough, so I understand why that is though…But he'll take good care of the people he cares about. Defend them, hold them, whatever he needs to do…He's a sweet kid. He even refused to let me sell the tomato plantation and is taking care of it himself…so diligently. I worry he'll work himself sick someday. So," Spain said pausing and twiddling his thumbs to which Greece looked up at him curiously, "So I guess…," Spain smiled widely at Greece, "I guess I do love him."

Greece smiled at Spain sleepily and patted the top of the chuckling nation's head, "I had a feeling you did…"

The final countries took their seats and America shuffled his papers and stood up. "Today…we have all reached a consensus on how to deal with the neighboring countries uprisings…"

Spain marched down the elaborately-decorated corridor down to the throne. The walls were lined with men in bright red uniforms holding battle-axes which made Spain reminisce of the days he spent on the sea. The plush, red carpet under his feet was lavish to walk on even in his cheap shoes.

At the end of the corridor a frightening lady, dressed in deep crimson and gold sat strongly on the throne. Her grotesque emerald eyes were fixed on Spain as he marched down in his casual clothes. "Did I not tell you," She boomed, "to wear something proper?"

"Si~ you did, your highness."

"And why," She stood pointing a finger at Spain which stands before her, "do you appear in my court dressed as such?"

Spain chuckled under his breath and looked up at her un-obediently and shrugged, causing the prima-queen's face to turn a deep shade of orange-red. She began tongue lashing him strongly, accusing him of treason, to which even the guards looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Your highness, how can a country commit treason…against itself? You're not making very good sense milady~," Spain said jokingly, smirking up at her.

"That little brat made you this way!" She hissed, "If it weren't for him you would be as obedient to me as you were to my ancestors!" Spain's back prickled at the words. This new queen was always accusing Romano of being some strong negative force on his character. He clenched his fists hard in his pockets.

"I've never hit a woman," He hissed under his breath when she finished her tirade, "But there is a first time for everything. Is there not, madam dipshit?" His face turned a deep shade of black along the bottom of his eyes as he looked up at her. The queen stepped back and nearly fell on the first step on the way to the throne.

"N-n-now you listen h-h-here! I was-," she began before being interrupted by a livid Spain.

"No! You listen here dipshit," he screamed at her causing her to fall against the step and lay looking up at Spain terrified, "You asked me to come here on short demand! And I did! Ta-fucking-da! Now I want to go home! I will not! And I mean NOT stay here in your court for another week like you asked! And the next time you say anything bad about Romano you can expect to taste what shoe leather tastes like! Wanna know why queenie? 'Cause I will have shoved my foot so far up your ass you will be coughing up shoe-laces! Do you understand me! If you haven't here's a version someone with a tiny brain like you could understand! One, I'm going home NOW, so deal with it; and two, the next time you feel about talking bad about Romano have the chef cook you up some shoe leather, eat it, and see if its really worth it to say it to me!"

Spain saw the whimpering queen lying on the ground under him, by he didn't care. He turned and walked back down the corridor past all the guards looking at him agape. Spain kicked open the large wooden doors more than five times his height and charged out into the street urging for a taxi. Once he managed to catch one he smiled and caught his breath, holding back his excitement by trying not to jump on the seat like a child.

"Where to, Mack?"

"A-airport! Please~," Spain nearly sang to him. With a hit of the accelerator he was ushered into traffic and home-bound.

"I'll be there soon Romano," Spain said looking out the window bearing his farewells to the large city walls. He'd trade all the cities and technology of the world in a heartbeat for his simple green house surrounded by tomatoes…

…and also for…

"mi sol," he said under his breath smiling.

*mi sol / mio sole = my sunshine (Spanish / Italian )

*Fratello = brother (Italian)

**Che palle = what balls (a term of annoyance in Italian)


	13. Chapter 13

Romano slouched in the corner of the room clutching his bright red and gold-embroidered scarf in his hands. His blood from grasping the shattered crystal pieces soaked into the bright gold. His little body shook heavily in time with the wooden door arching in from being pounded on relentlessly. Shrouds of people were screaming his name familiarly trying to coax the young man out, but the voices were unfamiliar and he refused to open the door to his aggressors. But as the wooden door began to bow further inward Romano knew he was only a few more pounds away from being captured.

He peered around the room hastily searching for any heavy furniture to place in front of the door. The large room was empty except for a very thin wooden chair. Romano sighed, knowing such a petite chair wouldn't keep them at bay. He curled into himself and hugged his knees, trying not to cry. His chin resting atop his knee he shut his eyes and allowed himself to relinquish hope. His eyes suddenly stung as a bright light hit his face straightforward. He glanced up and noticed the large window in front of him. He cursed at the sun and put his head back down before realizing his opportunities. He dragged the chair over to the window and swung it over his head, smashing the glass into the dirt underneath. He carefully crawled out the window being careful not to cut himself more than necessary. He plopped onto the ground and began running into the distance as fast as he could; his vestments catching against the wind.

When he was out of breath he stopped in some high grass and tried to hurriedly and quietly re-catch it. He could suddenly felt himself being pulled up out of the grass and into the strange, blue-cloaked arms of a soldier. Romano looked up at him and saw golden-hair and ocean-eyes. His face was contorted into a strange smile as he looked Romano up and down. He became frightened and began thrashing around trying to escape the vice-like grip of his captor.

"Oh, Romano," the captor said in a slurred tone happily as he held onto Romano tighter, "You're so cute, Romano, so cute, so cute~. I can't wait to see you in my nations clothes~. You'll be such a cute maid. And of course you'll sleep in my maid~. So warm and sweet and-," Romano screamed at the prospects that the large man was talking about, and was praying for anything to free him from the unclean hands. Suddenly a bull came from the grasslands nearby and toppled over France sending him to the ground in pain. Romano bowed offering his thanks to the bull and hurriedly began to run northward. He entered grass where he was concealed up to his shoulders in hope nobody would be able to spot him among the thin, green and white hairs of the earth.

Romano's breath was heavy and shaking, but he didn't dare slow his pace. He didn't know how long a bull would keep the pervert away from him. "I don't want to share a bed with anybody but Veneziano," He screamed in his head, "Especially not some pedophile!" He was reaching the end of the grassland when he paused and looked horrified upon a figure that stood in the distance. The strangers long red coat blew out towards Romano as his back was turned. Romano tried to keep his breath quiet and sneak in another direction away from him. However, he saw the stranger turn towards him and begin walking. His knee-length black boots crushing the grass underfoot. Romano began running back towards the house, which he could barely see anymore. He little legs couldn't take him any farther anymore and he collapsed, unable to return standing. He tried to hide in the grass by curling into a ball but he knew his white, gold, and red clothing would make hiding impossible. He cringed as he was picked up under the arms and held up to eye level with the stranger.

He stopped wincing and opened his eyes and looked into the face of his captive. He saw the chocolate-colored curls that ravaged his head, and the calm green emerald eyes that rested easily among his own. He was transferred into the crook of the man's arm as the other hand pulled up his long coat to check on the cuts he got while running. "Ay! Pobre chico~*, so many wounds you have," he said comforting as he moved his hand up and patted Romano's hair, "You don't need to run anymore. Don't worry now. I won't hurt you. I promise."

The bright orange sun blazed down on a sea of red that lay close to the earth. Romano stood up and ran his arm over his sweat-soaked forehead. His leather gloves made his hands burn under their thickness, but it was better than being cut or bitten by god-knows-what when he reached down to tent the tomatoes. He used his hand to shield over his eyes as he looked up into the sky squinting. The clouds were bulbous and large and looked like they were laying flat on a clear, glass table in the sky. Romano chuckled to himself admiring them, thinking of how as a kid he would throw rocks up to try and break the glass and send a cloud down to play with. Although, sometimes he would hit Spain in the head instead…

"He was always so mad when I did that…couldn't exactly tell him why though…would be too embarrassing," Romano chuckled to himself looking over the fields again. He scratched the back of his head and yawned deeply as the warm sun made his body ache for sleep. He rubbed away a yawning-tear with the back of his hand as he cautiously stepped over the plants and made his way to the house. In a small wooden box he dumped the weeds he had picked up and placed in his back-basket into compost. For the next harvest they would be using the weeds as fertilizer, had to put the weeds to good use at least. Romano placed the basket next to it and placed his gloves inside carefully. He stretched his back with his arms behind his back as he took the first step up to the house and lazily took the knob in his hand.

He took a deep breath and turned the knob pushing the door open only to be tackled and flung back into the yard with a heavy Veneziano on top of him.

"Fratello~," he sang, "You're home~ you're home~! I missed you!"

"Gah! Get offa me you dumb-ass!"

Romano squirmed under his brother's weight as he was hugged tightly around the waist and his brother's face pushed tightly into his neck. Veneziano secretly enjoyed the way his brother's body felt underneath him, and hid the blush from his face by burying into his neck. However, he could smell the sweet smell of Romano's mango shampoo and would blush even more. Romano finally managed to push Veneziano up so he was in a sitting position looking down at him.

"Why must you always, always, always attack me when I get home? I work in the yard! If you need me I'm at most 5 yards away! Jeez!"

Veneziano feigned sadness on his face as he straddled Romano's legs and looked into his brother's ambers eyes, "I just miss you, fratello. But guess what, guess what," he said bouncing up and down in excitement.

Romano sighed and pressed his face tiredly into Veneziano's chest, resting his forehead on his sternum. "What," He said with a tired tone.

Veneziano blushed and looked into the sky away from his meek brother as he patted his hand through his damp hair. "I-I made the pizza you like for dinner…thought you would like it! And to celebrate the tomatoes being ready to pick."

"Mmmm, thanks Veneziano, sounds good. Now if you get off of me we can actually eat it," Romano said irritated. Veneziano sighed and removed himself from his brothers legs and followed him inside.

The smell radiating from the kitchen was rich and heart and made Romano's mouth water uncontrollably. His gluttonous side released itself softly and made his feet move faster to the kitchen to behold a wondrous feast spread on the table. A mountain of pasta shining brightly in the lights covered in scrumptious olive oil. A Large pizza topped with fresh tomatoes (that Veneziano had picked sneakily while Romano was in the field) basil, mozzarella and cilantro. A few slim glasses filled to the hilt with a deep-crimson red wine.

"V-Veneziano…this is amazing," Romano announced taking his seat and sipping at the sweet wine, "this must have taken you all day!" Veneziano blushed and scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he blushed to his brother's un-usual praise. He made his way to the table and began putting pizza and pasta on Romano's plate below his wide-eyes; he picked up the pizza impassively but took his first bite and his eyes watered with delight. "T-This is amazing," he said looking up amazedly up at Veneziano and smiling.

Veneziano smiled and took his own seat cutting the food carefully as he watched his brother ravage his plate. He chuckled and took a bite of the slick pasta and savored the soft flavor of olive oil as it coated the inside of his mouth. In seemingly no time at all the Italians had devoured the monstrous amount of food that was once laid before them. They sat back patting their stomachs and smiling happily. Veneziano stood up and began placing the plates on the counter next to the sink preparing to wash them.

He was preparing to put his hands in the water when he noticed Romano standing next to him with a towel. "I'll help out…I ate too. Don't need to clean everything yourself, bastard." He said looking away from him. Veneziano smiled and felt his heart leap.

"Today is a good day after all~," it sang to him as he reached into the water and began scrubbing the large platter and handing it to Romano. Romano casually cleaned the dish and placed it on the counter to put away when all were finished. Veneziano stole glances to his side to see Romano in his black tank top and khaki shorts cleaning dishes so nicely. This sign of thoughtfulness was incredibly rare for him.

When all the dishes were done and laying on the counter to be put away Veneziano leaped up and down happily. "Yay~ they're done," he screamed ecstatically, "All those dishes would have been a pain if it were just me~! Thank you, fratello!" Romano just shrugged and attempted to walk away when he felt himself being pulled back by his brother's arms around his neck. He patted at the arms contently and chuckled to himself. He was becoming quite used to his brother grabbing at him at various times. He was almost beginning to find it cute, that his little brother wanted to be with him so badly.

…almost…he thought.

"Oi~ Veneziano. Lemme go, I get you're thankful and all. But I just did it so you wouldn't bitch la-," He was saying as he was pulled downward to a kiss. He was wide-eyed as Veneziano's oil-slicked lips ran over his own. The thin taste of olive oil rummaging into his mouth and nose along with the usual aroma of Veneziano's cinnamon smell. Romano placed his hands on Veneziano's chest and pushed him back onto the other counter.

"T-T-The hell was that?" He screamed.

"Ve? I was just saying thank you! That's what I did to Mr. Austria and Ms. Hungary when I was little. They didn't mind," Veneziano said hurriedly trying his best to cover up his devious intentions with innocent words. Romano ran his hand through his hair and cursed under his breath.

"Che palle! I am not them, Ok? And you're a grown man, not little! J-Just don't do that again," He said unconsciously blushing as he made his way to the door, "I-It's just weird since we're…brothers and all."

Romano made his way out of the room and into the living room to prepare himself for the late night harvest. Veneziano leaned against the counter and placed his hand over his chest where Romano had touched. He released a silent prayer that Romano hadn't felt his heart beating so fast. "T-They were so soft," He thought to himself putting to fingers up to his lips and blushing, "his lips were…" he shook his head and began placing the multitude of plates in their places.

Romano lay on the couch looking at the ceiling blushing with a book resting on his stomach. He put his hand over his face and sighed. "Dammit, I can still taste the olive oil…," he said to himself growling in his head, "T-that was just wrong, Veneziano!" He looked up at the analog clock curiously, and it read 09:35 in bold, red. He sat up and stared at it. The harvest wasn't supposed to be until ten, but he stood throwing the book onto the couch and straightened his top. He went out the front door and sat on the bottom stoop waiting for the harvest moon to reign a little higher so he could begin picking.

The expanse of red tomatoes were turning a slight pink color in the lights and glowed like shimmering Christmas lights. The leaved holding them up didn't shine at all and turned black, making the shining tomato-bulbs seem like a sea of shining light-bugs. Romano smiled and grabbed his gloves out of his basket and placed them on delicately before placing the basket on his back and heading into the ocean.

He leaned down and began fishing glowing white bulbs from the expanse of darkness underfoot and placed it in the basket carefully. When he filled the basket he went back to the house and placed them in a crate on the ground and headed back into the field. He made his way further into the field as he worked diligently to pick all the tomatoes carefully.

When midnight struck the harvest moon lay straight overhead and Romano could see his entire field. He was scoping the area happily as he wiped off his sweat when he was a figure in the distance. The figure was thin and barely shone in the moonlight. Romano's eyes widened trying to make sense of it. The figure began moving towards him and Romano's mind flashed into the dream and placed the same figure from his dream to the one now. His eyes grew wide as he recognized the shape and movements of the figure; he threw off his basket and began running frantically to the figure. The figure began running toward him with out-stretched arms…

…no…Spain began running at him with out-stretched arms…

Romano fell into Spain's arms softly and grabbed the fabric of Spain's coat behind his back gently allowing himself to savor the sweet scent of honey that Spain always carried around with him. Spain chuckled and patted Romano's hair smiling; he leaned over to sneakily place a kiss atop his head before he recognized his scent. "D-did he sleep in my bed every night," he thought to himself blushing quietly. He swallowed the lump in his throat and breathed in happily.

"I was afraid you wouldn't miss me, mi amor."

"Of course I did, you bastard. The house felt empty without you here…"

"Wasn't Veneziano here with you," Spain looked back questioningly allowing the name to slip off his tongue like puss.

"Yes…he was but, he's not you, fucking bastard," Romano blushed hoping the moonlight would conceal it as he kept his arms around Spain's waist.

Spain chuckled happily and placed his arms around Romano's back lovingly patting it. "Want to know a secret, Romano?" Romano's ears perked up and he nodded against Spain's chest. Spain scratches behind his ears and chuckled before leaning down and whispering into the top of his head, "I missed you dearly, mi amor."

"S-Shut up, bastard," Romano said clearly embarrassed and hiding his face. They both stood under the midnight moon holding each other closely, allowing their souls to re-unite as well. Neither of them aware of the sour look on Veneziano's face as he stood on the door step looking at them. His fists shaking and clutching to his pants as he bore witness to someone else holding his brother.

*Ay! Pobres Chico = oh my, poor boy~ (Spanish)


	14. Chapter 14

Under the bright harvest moon that shone down like a white son Veneziano bore witness to the tight embrace his brother shared with Spain. He even noticed the slight upturned corners of Romano's mouth as he burrowed into Spain's chest. Veneziano bit the corner of his lips with his canine tooth, allowing a small trickle of blood to run down his chin and fall onto the pavement. He looked down and saw the blood spatter like a dropped tomato. He clicked his tongue and ran a forearm across his chin wiping off the blood. Veneziano clenched his jaw and printed an oddly-formed faux-smile as he ran over to Spain and Romano.

"Spain~ I'm so glad to see you're home~," he sang as he charged over, ushering the two to separate and Romano to look away to hide a trite blush that lay upon his countenance.

"O-Oh Veneziano~. It's good to see you," Spain said jovially as he opened his arms for the little Italian. Veneziano jumped into Spain's embrace only for a slight second before jumping out of it and clutching Romano's arm to his chest and laying his head upon his shoulder. Spain felt a slight contorted smirk placed upon Veneziano's features; but he simply shook his head and managed to put it out of his mind, believing it to be tricks of the moon.

"So how was your trip, Spain?" Veneziano smiled curtly as he gently rested his head on Romano's shoulder. Spain felt a slight prick in his heart noticing how Roma didn't push him away as he so frequently does with him. Romano was just simply looking at Spain with a blank face, his cheeks pink from sunburn.

…Or at least Spain believed it to be sunburn.

"W-Well nothing too eventful. I was in a rush to get home because…well I don't enjoy having to attend meetings too much. All I get to do is sit there with Greece, who is normally asleep," Spain blushed and scratched the back of his head and twirled a loose cowlick curl nervously, "b-but this time he was actually awake some and we got to talk about…stuff."

"Sounds great Spain~," Veneziano sang in a false happiness tugging his brothers arm, "Why don't we all go inside and talk~ I'm sure Spain is very tired from traveling so much~."

"Mmm. But only for a little while. I need to finish with these tomatoes," Romano mumbled low in his natural angry tone looking at Veneziano, who was currently holding his hand and trying to pull him into the house. Spain stared at the intertwined hands, trying to burn a hole through Veneziano's to have him let go; needless to say it didn't work as Veneziano kept heading to the house his brother in tow. Spain took up his briefcase and began walking after them, a constricting feeling running through each capillary. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he ran his fingers through to calm them as he looked back to the bright orange moon shining down.

"Dios, what are you doing to me tonight?" he wondered quietly to himself as his eyes illuminated. He quickly turned his back to the orb and increased his pace to catch up with the Italians. He grabbed Romano's other hand and happily glanced down at his rugged hair, gently damped with sweat and holding hints of soil. Despite this, all Spain saw was the sweet smile that Romano would have reading something he enjoyed, or the sarcastic laugh he made whenever he was joking around with him. That laugh that made Spain fall head-over-heels over and over again. Spain held Romano's hand tightly blushing slightly at all the thoughts that waterfalls into his mind from the moon. He felt surprised when he felt Roma's fingers actually tightened around his own, holding his hand willingly. Spain smiled and tried to refrain from skipping, as his body felt weightless and his heart happy; that is, until he realized on the other hand he held Veneziano's hand. He felt his feet become plastered to the ground, but bit his lip and tried to remain happy as he made sense of everything in his head.

"Ok, why am I getting so upset over Veneziano being here? Close to Romano…My Romano. Sure they may have gotten closer while I was gone, but they're still brothers and all. And incest between countries may be okay but I bet Romano wouldn't do that with Veneziano," Spain thought quietly to himself as he entered the house and set his shoes down, "ugh! I just need to shake it all out of my head! I'm sure that daydream was just induced from eating something weird and I was just tired. Veneziano's not evil~ He wouldn't do anything to Romano~." Spain smiled making his way down the hall to his room.

"Oy~ Guys," he shouted to the Italy's as they sat in the sitting area, Romano noticeably enjoying the coolness from the air conditioning, "I'm gonna get changed so I can help Romano pick the rest of the tomatoes, okay?"

"No! You bastard, you just got home; I can handle the rest so just get changed so you can relax."

"B-but Lovino~," he muttered low looking at Romano sprawling out in the chair, "I wanna help."

"And I want a million bucks. But its tough titties, so sit down and relax. Besides I only have five more rows to go. And if you try to help me I will make sure you never want to again."

Spain nodded slowly and entered his room setting his case on the bed. He took the clothes out and placed them atop the dresser so he could open the chest. He took hold of the knobs and opened it briskly to reveal a multitude of tank tops and silk button-up shirts. Spain blushed as he realized that Romano had indeed been in his room, naked, changing. His face became burning red as his fingers slowly ran over the silken fabric.

He backed away from the dresser and faced the bed. He smiled as he nearly jumped onto it, burrowing his face into the nearest pillow. He took a deep breath hoping to get the sweetest scent of cilantro and basil that often rested on Romano's skin; but his face soured as he smelled a small cinnamon twist among the cilantro.

Cinnamon…

The same color as his hair…

Him…

"Veneziano," Spain uttered low with a growl holding the pillow in a weak grip letting it fall to his sheets with a grimace. Speechless and with his mind racing he undressed and placed on a familiar lace-up shirt and brown pants. He tried his best to place a natural look on his face before opening the door and stepping down the hall briskly. He was shocked to find only Veneziano sitting there twiddling his thumbs looking blankly at the wall. Spain looked over the room searching for Romano before voicing his concerns.

"He went to finish picking the tomatoes," Veneziano said blankly not removing his gaze from the wall.

"A-ah~," Spain chuckled nervously taking his seat in the couch across from Veneziano looking at his face curiously. He wondered why the younger Italian's eyes seemed blank and cold, and why his usually-cheerful gaze was kept elsewhere despite there being nothing to look at. He just gulped down his breath and smiled at Italy awkwardly.

"Y-Ya know Ita-chan, I'm really glad you could come here to look after Romano. I was worried for some reason that you two would get too close though," He chuckled scratching the back of his head, "I had some weird daydream where you were licking his curl and kissing him softly."

Veneziano's ears perked up as his gaze slid over to Spain's face which was focused on the ground as he blabbered about his daydream nervously. He was playing with his thumbs and wringing his hands. "Silly isn't it Veneziano," he chuckled nervously.

Veneziano shrugged and looked into Spain's eyes with a smug smile. The corners of his eyes wrinkling up as the dim light from the lamp hit his face making his eyes a devilish orange hellfire. "Not so strange, really, considering it's all true."


	15. Chapter 15

"I-I beg your pardon, V-Veneziano," Spain muttered grabbing the couch loosely as all his skin felt like it was crawling around. He shook his lightly and shut his eyes hoping to rid himself of the horrid image of Veneziano's smirk. He prayed he had lost his mind temporarily and was just hearing and seeing things; but when he again lifted his head he was faced with the cruel image of Veneziano's teeth bearing at him glistening in the flimsy, orange lamplight.

"I thought ya heard me. Wow you must be getting old~," Veneziano mocked happily scowling as his eyes burned a hole into the top of Spain's head as he looked at the floor, not being able to bring himself to look at his innocent little Veneziano in such a state. "I said~ that Lovi and I were having lots of fun here without you~. Sleeping~ eating~ baths~ and of course," he let out a mock giggle, "that~."

Spain looked up horrified and faced Veneziano; his skin burning with a mix of fury and fear. His mouth grew dry and he tried to moisten it by shuffling his tongue around, fruitlessly. He gulped a dry clump of air stuck in his throat before letting out a hoarse voice, "t-t-that?"

Veneziano's grin turned into a Cheshire-smile as he scoffed at Spain. Looking at Spain's pathetic face, eyes glazed and mouth slightly agape, sent him into a giggling fit as he kicked his legs and grabbed at his ribcage. He lied against the side of the chair kicking his legs as his shrill giggle filled the house; which at the moment only seemed to be the couch Spain sat atop and the armchair Veneziano was occupying.

"S-stop laughing," Spain uttered low still looking at the floor; repeating it, every time getting a slight bit louder until he was standing with clenched fist staring holes into Veneziano. He felt his body grow rigid with every shrill laugh that emitted from the little bug in his house. He wanted nothing more than to squash it and set his life back into order, but he knew that would probably give him more problems than not. So he stood, staring down at Veneziano as he regained his composure and sat back up looking at him with a menacing smile. The breath entering Spain sounded like the rabid snorts from a wild bull let loose for a matador.

"Romano is so cute isn't he?" Veneziano began again calmly interlacing his hands on his knee looking at the rabid Spain before him but not showing an ounce of terror. "You would loose it if you heard those cute noises he makes when you get just the right spot~," He gave Spain a wink making his blood boil. Spain charged over to Veneziano and tore him from the chair by his collar. Veneziano gave him a sly smile knowing Spain was buying every single lie he was selling. He hadn't gotten that far with fratello…

…yet…

Spain breathes heavily into Veneziano's face, remembering how he found his scent laced in with Romano's on his very own pillow. "R-Romano wouldn't defile my bed like that," Spain thought aloud to himself, his voice cracking with fear.

"Or would he," Veneziano murmured looking straight into Spain's glossy, emerald eyes that seemed as fragile as glass in that moment. Spain's grip went lack at those words sending Veneziano onto the ground as he stared at the wall. His mind sending him images of his little Roma consummating a relationship with another in his bed. Spain grabbed his hair by his temples and fell back onto the couch, slumped over and looking at the floor horrified.

"N-n-no he wouldn't…I trust him…he wouldn't ever…," his mind raced making incoherent thoughts. Veneziano chuckled and ran his hand softly over Spain's cheek tenderly with a smirk plastered across his face.

"He would, Antonio~," he sang out, "he wouldn't at first~, saying it was improper and all."

"S-shut up."

"But with a little coaxing~ he fell right down and let me rub everything on him~. He panted so softly. It was so cute."

"S-s-shut the hell up…please," Spain's voice sounded pained.

"I was surprised at how eager he seemed to be~. And when I entered him," he chuckled, "I had no idea he was a virgin~ I thought you woulda jumped on the chance to pounce my fratello~."

"Shut up!" Spain yelled standing from the couch steering his fist right across Veneziano's cheek, sending him to the floor with a thud. Spain's eyes were filled with tears as his imagination made vivid pictures of his words.

His little Roma…panting under Veneziano's touch…not his…

"O-Oi! What the hell did you do that for ya bastard!" Romano yelled as he charged over and picked Veneziano up glaring wildly at Spain. Spain took a step back and looked down wide-eyed at how tenderly Romano was picking his younger half up off the floor and ushering him to the kitchen to ice his cheek and aid a few scrapes he sustained from the fall.

'N-Now I'm the bad one,' Spain thought clutching his chest painfully, 'h-how do I explain to him this…I love him and I don't even want to think that he…,' Spain whimpered as he sat back on the couch trying his best to hold back his tears.

In the kitchen Romano took his little brother by the hips and placed him upon the countertop as he shuffled in the cabinet next to him for the first aid kit. Veneziano took note of the sweat drops gliding off Romano's hair. He grabbed a towel close to him and began to squeeze tenderly at the beginning of each small lock.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Ve~? I'm helping fratello dry off. Oh! How did the harvest go? Is it all over?"

Romano sighed placing down the box and shuffling around its contents before locating a pack of bandages and antiseptic. "Just hold still will ya? The harvest went fine for the most part. It's done now so all I do now is wait until I can re-plant and grow again." Romano took hold of Veneziano's chin in one hand as the other glided a cotton-ball filled with antiseptic to his cheek. Veneziano winced slightly and tried to pull back but Romano's firm grip kept his face still. "I'm sorry. Guess I shoulda told ya it'd sting a bit."

Veneziano shook his head slightly trying to tell his fratello it was okay and he didn't need to apologize. Romano covertly smiled as he continued to rub the hurt area trying his best not to hurt Veneziano any more. He noticed Veneziano's lip quivering lightly as he tried to keep a stiff upper lip. Romano reached over slightly and tossed the bloodied ball into the trash as he patted Veneziano on the head lightly. "There, that wasn't so bad huh ya pansy?"

Veneziano nodded happily and sat up straight to further himself into Romano's palm. "Ve~," he cheered silently allowing Romano's lithe fingers to spread the thin white cloth over his cheek. Spain walked into the room and bore witness to Veneziano being pampered lightly and felt his chest tighten up.

W-w-was this…proof?

Spain plastered his usual smile on his face and strode over to the counter where Veneziano was sitting kicking his legs. 'Trying to play the innocent little brother,' Spain scoffed in his mind, 'typical. Trying to make his fratello feel sorry for him and paint me as the demon that punched him without provocation.'

Romano noticed Spain approaching through the corner of his eye and hugged Veneziano close around the waist to him, "O-OI! Don't even think of punching him again!"

Spain placed his hands up defensively showing he meant no harm. The inferno in Spain's belly was sent roaring seeing Romano's hands wrapped around Veneziano as the younger snuggled into his chest feigning fear. However he simply tried to keep his smile on and show he meant no harm; counting the seconds that Romano held onto his brother glaring at him. He felt Veneziano's sly smirk burning a hole into his chest, which when unnoticed by the older.

"I-I just wanted to apologize to Veneziano," he said smiling looking Veneziano in the eyes as he dropped to his knee and bowed lightly, " I shouldn't have hit you. I let my emotions get the best of me."

"It's okay Spain~," Veneziano giggled as he clung tighter to Romano. Spain held back the growl in his throat as Romano sifted his fingers through the bright orange locks of the younger.

"Well isn't this all cute and special," Romano said sarcastically, dislodging himself from Veneziano's grip and grabbing a cold drink from the fridge, popping it open, "but I'm fucking tired…so as soon as I finish this its bed time."

Spain and Veneziano looked at each other for a moment shooting sparks in the air between them as Romano took his seat at the table and sipped the soda lightly to cool himself off.

"Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight Roma," Spain said with a smile making Veneziano scowl at him and Romano nonchalantly turn around, "I mean it's only right since we should let Veneziano sleep in your bed. He should be comfortable his last night here~."

Romano took another large sip of his drink and set it down exhaling and crossing his arms, "Sure. W-wait last night here?"

"Well…yeah~ he was only supposed to be here 'till I got back. I mean he can~ stay for a little while longer if he wants but~," Spain paused smiling and playing with the hair on the back of his neck trying not to blush, "but that just means you'll have to sleep in my bed for a little longer."

"Whatever," Romano scoffed standing and throwing the empty can in the trash, "Veneziano's a grown-ass man and he can do as he pleases. But for now I am going to bed," Romano stretched out making his way to Spain's room. Spain smirked victoriously at Veneziano as the younger Italian looked hurt at Romano, gently touching his cheek. He was so close to actually getting Romano to be sweet to him. He only wanted to see fratello smile at him. Veneziano looked down at the floor as he made his way to Romano's room and buried his face in the pillow, easily slipping into a dream.

Spain slipped quietly into his room and saw Romano lying on his bed under the swishing fan overhead.

Completely nude…

"W-why are you naked, Roma," Spain spurted in surprise.

"I was friggin' hot as hell! Needed to cool my ass off and all my pajamas are in the wash. So I'm fucking naked. Hey! Stop staring, jackass! Pervert."

Spain was glancing over the sweetly toned Mediterranean skin. The lightly-tones muscles and the slight dip in his figure making him only slightly hourglass shaped as his arms were stretched over his head trying to get as much air as possible. Spain felt his entire mouth go dry from want, before his stomach sent a wave of nausea remembering everything Veneziano had said only minutes before.

He clenched his teeth and swallowed another breath of air as he marveled at Romano's lithe body spread out before him like a feast. Romano, enjoying the splash of crisp air on his flesh, shut his eyes and rested on his back. Spain made his way over to the bed and straddled Romano's waist to his shock.

"O-oi! Bastard! What the hell do you think you-," Romano began but was cut off by Spanish lips spreading over his slowly melting into a strong kiss. He was pushed back down onto the bed as Spain's fingers explored the flesh from his hips and moved up slowly. Spain's tongue slowly slicked Romano's bottom lip making him open his lips trying to say something. Spain simply darted his tongue into the feisty Italian's mouth and began to explore and running against his tongue. His hands finally reached his chest and began to grip the small salmon-colored nipples in between his thumb and forefinger making Romano shudder under him. Spain pulled back a few millimeters away from his face and looked down to see Romano blushing under him shuddering with barely visible tears in his eyes.

"W-what're you doing?"

Spain smirked and leaned down by Romano's ear and whispered allowing his breath to snake onto Romano's neck ushering another shudder and light moan, "It's my turn to make you moan, my little Roma~." He trailed his fingers down and ran them along Romano's length as he kissed his neck.


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors note: **

**qqsha: I am loving your reviews! thank you so much for loving my story so much! I smile whenever I see you dropped a review and I'm grateful for your input. I will keep them in mind as I write future chapters! (and on the note of my style growing in the chapters, thats because I wasn't exactly sure of where I was going with this story when I started, now I do :))**

**To everyone whose added Mio Sole to their story-watch, thank you so much! I appreciate it getting so popular on here so quickly! However, sadly this is the last pre-made chapter to upload on ...so the updates will be coming a tiny bit slower. My apologies~. If you have a Deviantart account you could follow me on there. I usually update on there faster!**

The heavy wooden pail's metal handle made his small hands bloody with the sharp creases it made on his palm. Except he knew his master would make much worse wounds if he dared say anything about it. He kept a strong face by biting his lower lip as he took his brush to the tile underfoot and polished it until it shined. His diligence was rewarded with blisters on his delicate fingertips.

When the night had finally come and the marble floors and crisp white walls shone with vigor from the days cleaning Veneziano finally made his way to the tiny bedroom he was given. There he found a small change of clothes and some bandages for his hands resting on the small cot he used for a bed. He peeked out the door trying to find the person who had put them there, but not a soul was seen. He shivered at how empty the house seemed at night.

'It's such a big house, you think you'd see someone at all times,' he shrugged as he ducked back into his room. He removed the bright green clothes he had been given before, spreading light red stains on the clasps from his finger wounds. He sat on the side of the bed and wrapped his own wounds as best he could. He cried lightly remembering how Grandpa Rome used to tend to his wounds. And when grandpa had gone Romano took up the task no matter how much it annoyed him. Veneziano smiled with melancholy thinking of all the lectures Romano would give him to be more careful and not to work himself so hard.

'That's how I knew fratello really cared,' he thought to himself finishing up the final bandage, 'fratello was never…sweet…but he does care. You don't need to be sweet to care~." He giggled lightly to himself as he switched into the white sleep gown he had been given and crawled into bed. The sheets had been washed while he was cleaning and had the faint aroma of flower-filled soap. He snuggled into the covers pulling them up to his neck and inhaling the scent. He smiled knowing at least somebody in this large house was taking care of him, even if he didn't know their face.

'When I see them I want to thank them,' he thought as he fell into a light sleep with the throbbing in his fingertips keeping him attached to the conscious world. The moon slung its vibrant arrows through the window across Veneziano's face shooting him awake. He looked around curious to his surroundings not exactly sure of where he was or how he'd gotten there. The plush bed he was used to sleeping on, with the fluffed pillows and tricolor sheets were gone. The warmth he always knew as his sleeping fratello was missing.

He threw the covers off himself and charged to the door opening it up on his foot ushering a small amount of blood to come from the wound. He didn't feel it as he stared into the vast home of marble and paintings. He clutched at the loose night gown around his chest and ran into the hallways trying to find something precious.

'F-fratello! I want my fratello!' He screamed to himself rabidly searching for any sign of him. He fell on the floor and scraped his arm roughly before sitting up and grabbing at it with tears in his eyes. He half-expected his brother to come out of one of the rooms, having heard him fall, and scold him as he was bandaged up. It didn't happen though.

Instead he lay his forehead on the cool floor, allowing his blood to rub onto his forehead as he cried. "Fratello," he whimpered aloud.

Spain's hot breath could be felt on the nape of Romano's neck as Spain nipped and bit the tender flesh sumptuously. Romano placed his hands on his chest trying desperately to push him away, all the while uttering cursed and taunts to the elder.

"L-lemme go you fucking bastard!" he growled as he pushed at Spain's face. Spain smirked and grabbed Romano's wrists, easily pinning them on the bed. He leaned back down so he was nose-to-nose with the struggling Italian under him.

He smirked and whispered against Romano's lips, "I told you tonight is my turn to make you moan, my little Roma~," and before he had a chance to protest Spain hurriedly and forcefully placed his lips on Romano's gently sucking on the soft rose-bud lips. He could feel the expanse of skin under him becoming flushed from embarrassment. He chuckled against his lips as he gently bit one and pulled away.

Raising Romano's thrashing arms over his head he easily held both wrists together. Spain glanced down and noticed how the simple position change made the slick muscles on Romano's chest bulge out. With animalistic pleasure Spain noted the heavy breathing coming from underneath him. He smirked as he kept eye contact with the glazed-over honey-colored eyes under him as he ran his fingers over his chest running them southward.

"O-Oi! Bastard you better no-," He began but was cut off by a pained moan as Spain took hold of his manhood and squeezed it.

"You seem to be enjoying this," Spain chuckles making note of the throbbing member in his hand. Romano opened his mouth to yell at him, but was quickly cut off by a sharp moan as Spain dug his thumb into the elastic tip, gently easing apart the slit and rubbing hard. Romano's body stiffened as he screamed in his head for Spain to stop.

'W-why is he acting like this?' Romano's mind struggled as his back arched lightly from pleasure coursing through his limbs. 'H-he's never…shown any sign of…wanting me this way…,' he thought with small tears lining the corner of his eyes as Spain lightly pumped him, 'I-I don't want to be just a fuck-buddy to him. I-Is he drunk? I didn't see him drink anything. W-why…,' his mind suddenly ceased to make words as Spain began pumping him fast, keeping eye contact. Romano's body shuddered against his will as small whimpers left his lips. He glanced down for a moment, witnessing the caramel-colored fingers running hard along him member and digging into his head. He bit his lower lip and looked up at the ceiling trying to avoid Spain's strong gaze.

"No, no, no, Roma," Spain muttered leaning down and Eskimo kissing him, "Don't bite your lip or it'll hurt later." Spain gently let go of Romano's wrists, knowing he was shaking in pleasure so he couldn't be thrown off, and gently placed his index and middle finger in Romano's mouth splitting open the lips and teeth. The room was suddenly filled with moans Romano couldn't hold back with his mouth open. Soft pants came forward mixed with curses to Spain.

"Agh~ L-l-lemme~ nnngh….l-lemme g-g-go b-bastardo! A-ah!" His back arched up hitting Spain's chest as he attempted to push him off by the shoulders. Spain only pushed his fest forward placing Romano back on the bed as his hand continued to pleasure him and make him utter more moans. Spain licked his lips hungrily as Romano's face twisted and tears fell from his eyes, rolling down to wet the pillows, as his body sweat and covered the sheets in a thin layer. "Ngh!" Romano shot up as Spain his a sweet spot. Spain smiled and continued to rub his fingers over that spot until Romano's body began shaking hard under him and his fingers clutched his skin rather than pushing it away. The thin nails leaving trails down his chest.

With a little more work Spain managed to send Romano over the edge, his toes pointing forward and his body shooting up against his own wrapping his arms around his neck, still scratching. Romano attempted to scream curses for Spain to stop, but all that came from his mouth was a moan that bordered on a scream. He clamped a hand over his mouth as his cum spilled over Spain's hand and his body released the large amount of pleasure.

Spain released the throbbing member as Romano fell back against the bed panting and trying to catch his breath. He chuckled, leaning down and pressing his lips to Romano's gently but quickly. Romano's body shivered lightly from the aftermath. Spain chuckles lightly when he noticed how Romano was trying to get his arm up to punch him, but it only just lazily laid on the bed. Spain looked down at his hand and smirked at the blushing flesh underneath him as he made eye-contact with the glazed eyes.

He brought his hand to his lips and ran his tongue over them sumptuously, savoring the light salty fluid that he'd only tasted in his dreams before. Once his hand was clean he placed three fingers in front of Romano's lips.

"Open," He instructed, "Open your mouth and suck these."

"W-Why should I you f-f-fucking asshole?" Romano said between pants as his body shook uncontrollably.

"'Cause if you don't, mi poco sol*, it'll hurt terribly later," Spain retorted deviously, making Romano blush and look away with his eyes as he opened his mouth hesitantly.

Veneziano threw the covers off himself as he looked around the dark room looking for any light. He reached for his candle but was greeted with a lamp which he turned on illuminating the room and making his eyes burn slightly. He was breathing heavily as he looked around the room, enveloped in the strong basil scent that personified his brother. He smiled gently and laid back down grabbing next to him trying to cuddle to his fratello's back. He re-opened his eyes when he couldn't feel his warmth and stared wide-eyed at the mattress next to him.

He rubbed his temples lightly trying to remember everything that happened before he'd fallen asleep. 'oh…right. Spain came home,' his mind said sharply as he set his feet on the ground, ' and the moron proposed I sleep here like a guest while fratello sleep with him. Hmph,' he crossed his arms feeling lonely. 'b-but…I really need my fratello right now.'

He stood up stretching before walking over to the door and opening it, ushering him into a dark hall just like the dream. He felt his breath hitch as he recalled the fear he'd felt as a child in the dark. He quickly walked over to Spain's room and opened the door.

"Fratello I-," Veneziano began to ask to sleep together before he was shocked into seeing Spain on his knees at the foot of the bed holding Romano by the hips as Romano held onto a pillow whimpering. Spain's index and middle finger pressed into his opening and gently scissoring as the turned and made Romano's breath hitch and groan lightly.

Their attentions turned to Veneziano as he stood in the doorway wide-eyed staring at the scene before them. Spain immediately pulled his fingers out of Romano's entrance as he looked over at the door glaring at Veneziano; his bright emerald eyes burning into Veneziano's chest. Romano was in shock as he jumped onto his knees on the bed facing Veneziano. His mind ravaging itself looking for any words to show his little brother it wasn't what it looked like. That it was a misunderstanding and that Spain was making it happen and his only choice was to…

Was it really his only choice…he could have run…he could have…

As he began to say something to the whimpering Veneziano his voice caught and all the words left his person.

"F-fratello," Veneziano's voice came out as a low whisper in the dark as his eyes met with Romano's for a split second. He looked back at his feet as his body shook and he grabbed over his chest, trying desperately to hold his heart together. To keep it from breaking any further.

Germany shuffled his papers on the large oak desk as he slowly began to recompose himself after having to scream so much to cease everyone's ramblings throughout the meeting. He glanced across the room the Veneziano's chair. The large golden plaque reading the words "N. Italy." Lying on the table in front. He sighed and brushed his hair back before wondering why he hadn't heard Italy's ramblings in the midst of everyone else's. 'Am I getting old?' He thought curiously before shaking it out from his mind, 'nein, nein…was he just…not here?' he mulled it over in his mind.

He could see America's rambling, England cynicism, Sealand's pestering, Turkey and Greece fighting whenever the latter happened to be awake, but no Italy. He found it odd that he would miss a meeting. It was very uncharacteristic of him. He sighed, thinking of how dumb he was the last time he had seen the happy, orange-haired nation. He'd pushed away his hug, and when he yelled at him, kneeling at face level the wind blew Italy's curl into his mouth making him graze it lightly. He remembered Italy's blush, but he didn't know why he was blushing so much.

He slapped his hand to his forehead exasperated, thinking back. He'd asked a few others why rubbing Italy's curl made him blush, but all they'd done is look away awkwardly and said nothing. Japan even went so far as to say even Italy didn't really know why it…but then Japan too blushed and looked away. Damn him… But he was relieved Italy said nothing but pulled his curl back out from his mouth and backed away apologizing.

Germany shook the incident out of his mind and went to ask Austria where Italy could be. But he was greeted with silence and empty seats all down his aisle. 'Dammit!' Germany cursed mentally, 'This is why we don't hold meeting on Fridays! Even nations will act like humans on Fridays!' He growled in his throat thinking of how all the other nations were so eager to leave meetings on Fridays and begin a partying weekend.

He gathered his things and planned a list to call later to locate Italy. However, as he took one last glance around the room he noticed a mess of hair lying on the table snoring lightly. Germany made his way across the room and laid his hand on the muscular shoulder and shaking lightly.

"H-hey. Wake up!" he grumbled as gently as he could. The man shot up and rubbed his eyes glancing at Germany curiously. Germany apologized for waking him but showed him the meeting had concluded and all the others had gone to party. He bit his lip and took the seat next to him looking at the table and digging his nail into it trailing a think line towards him. "H-Hey Greece, you wouldn't happen to know where Italy is would you."

Greece thought to himself slowly, as calm as ever. He remembered Italy's name coming up when he and Spain spoke at the uprising meetings. He asked himself if it were real and nodded when he was satisfied with himself that it was. He looked over to Germany, "I….think Spain said something…about him staying with Romano while…he was in the meetings…So you could always…check Romano's house. The place…with the tomato fields…"

Germany looked over shocked at Greece wondering if he was saying the truth. He always knew the Italian brothers never got along.

So them being alone together so long…a fight would surely erupt…

He began muttering to himself about how the brothers were prone to fights, and how worried he was of Italy. Germany quickly thanked Greece as he shot out of his seat and headed out of the building grabbing a taxi and giving directions to the small green house surrounded by plump tomato fields. "Hold on Italy," He thought to himself staring out the window at the setting sun, preparing himself for a long ride.

Greece sat alone in the conference room rubbing his eyes and looking for motivation to get up. One of the kittens around his feet meowed and plopped onto his lap, nuzzling into his abs urging him for food. He lowered his hand and petted its head as it purred. He picked it up and set it on his head as he gently stood up and began walking towards the door.

"For some reason…I have a feeling the Italian brothers…get along a lot better now…Maybe too well….Strange, huh pookie?" He said up to his head. The cat meowed as he left the building and headed home to think it over.

*Mi poco sol = my little sunshine (Spanish)


	17. Chapter 17

Rating: T+

Summary: the aftermath of chapter 16. Germany appears. Etc.

"This is my stop," Germany mentioned looking out the window at the expanse of greenery before him; the lights of a small house in the distance. The cabby grunted and and slowed the car down.

The car pulled onto the side of the road into the dirt as the passenger stepped out and removed his luggage. He reached into the pocket of his brown suit trousers and handed the cabby the fare and a generous tip for the long ride. The car pulled away, more than eager to head back to the city. Germany growled lightly as he watched the tail-lights retreat into the darkness.

"What a great conversationalist," he thought sarcastically to himself picking his briefcase up from the ground. He made his way to the house on the dirt path, glancing down at the tomato plants and noticing they were absent of any fruit. He raised an eyebrow before looking overhead. "Oh right, harvest moons and all that. Romano does take care of this place," he noted to himself, "He'd never admit it though." As he reached the small house, with faded green-painted exterior and sun-bleached wooden doors he noticed two figures outside, a frantic air around them. The light coming from the fixtures on the side of the house made them only appear as shadows to Germany, but the tell-tale curl on one identified Romano, and the other must be Spain.

"Why're the outside this late at night? I thought everyone would be aslee-…wait," Germany thought to himself as a shiver flew down his spine, "Where is Italy?"

Germany found himself sprinting up the dirt path up to Romano and grabbing the thin shirt he was wearing him to hoist him off the ground, "Vhere ist he?" he shouted in a militant voice, his emotions shining through as he couldn't be bothered to hide his accent, "Vhat did'jo do to him?"

Romano stayed silent and wide-eyed, just being shocked at the presence of the burley Germany, much less being on the ground one second and in the air the next. The deadly blue eyes burning into his, as the corners turned red in concentration. Spain turned around to see Germany holding his Lovi in the air forcefully. He felt his heart being squeezed thinking of how the Italian would fare if the German loosened his hold of his temper.

"Vhat did you do to Italy," Germany growled as his grip became a vice on Romano's collar. Spain rushed over gripping Germany's wrist roughly, issuing a glare to him. He was glad to take it though, as long as it meant Romano didn't have to.

"He didn't do anything, Germany," Spain managed to say forcefully, "Italy…well…something happened and Italy ran out here. Romano didn't do anything to hurt him. We just need to find him."

"And what exactly happened?" Germany began to calmly place Romano on the ground, but had yet to loosen his grip on his shirt. Romano shot a look to Spain telling him to keep his fucking mouth shut or he'd pay for it later. Spain nodded and smiled to Germany awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"T-That's not important right now. What's important is finding him, yes?"

Germany growled in his throat, obviously displeased that his question had so easily pushed to the side. But he exhaled sharply and let go of Romano roughly, allowing him to fall the two inches onto the dirt. He turned to Spain and nodded, "J-ja…we need to find him first."

"He hasn't gotten far," Romano interjected.

"And how do you know that?" Spain said curiously tilting his head to the side. Romano scowled; annoyed at how Spain can act innocently so easily, but pushing the thought from his mind he continued.

"I just do alright? Now…take the potato-bastard inside and get him to cool the testosterone a bit. I'll bring Veneziano inside in a few minutes."

Germany scoffed and crossed his arms glaring fiercely at Romano, "Do you not see the vast ground before us? He could be anywhere. What makes you think you can find him alone?"

Romano swallowed the pit in his throat and took in a shaking breath, his lungs lightly quivering as he controlled his fear. "I see it you potato bastard. Hell, I work on this land every. Fucking. Day," he said slowly with emphasis on every word, "I know this land better than you ever will. S I recommend you go inside and let me do what I have to. I don't want your ass getting lost too! 'Cause then I'd have no motivation to save your dumb ass. Now get inside. Now."

Germany scowled roughly, knowing there was a chance he would get lost in the expanse of fields. He'd never been here before, so it was only natural. And he had a secret habit of getting lost as a child and didn't want to re-create his embarrassing past. He felt Spain take his upper arm and lead him into the house as he continued to scowl at Romano.

Once Romano was alone he crossed his arms and sighed, trying to relax himself. He looked at his fruitless field and scratched the back of his head lightly. He'd never meant for Veneziano to see what he saw.

…_Hell he never even meant for what happened to happen!_

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath in embarrassment, "the fuck am I gonna say to him now…Sorry for you walking in on me _almost_ getting butt-fucked….thanks for saving me from getting butt-fucked. How about we avoid the phrase _butt-fuck_ as much as possible…fuck." He growled again in his throat going to a crouching position tracing his fingers lightly in the dirt.

_If only I had pushed that bastard off me in the first place we wouldn't be in this mess…_

He flicked a pebble with all his might as his mind traced back to Spain's passionate kisses and the feeling of his warm skin atop his own. He felt himself blush as he found another pebble and mercilessly flicked it, breaking his nail lightly.

_Why did that bastard….Am I just a fuck-toy_ (note to self: don't use that word near Veneziano either)…_Why didn't I…_

…_Why didn't I try to push him away harder…It felt good bu-_

Romano vigorously shook his head and stood up quickly. He began strolling into the fiends to his right leisurely as he picked at the broken nail with his thumb. He glanced around the area looking for a sign of cinnamon hair; but the harvest moon had begun to retract its position in the sky, leaving the land in shadows.

With nostalgia he remembered playing long games of hide-and-seek with Veneziano as a child. Back then he would only need to shout "I have pasta!" for Veneziano to eagerly come from his hiding spot. Romano chuckled, before sighing and running his hand through his hair awkwardly, "I don't suppose that would work right now…"

Romano shut his eyes and perked his ears softly, cupping his hands behind them to catch every small noise. The air was thick with the sounds of grasshoppers and fluttering wings of moths, but underneath all the pests he heard a tiny whimpering. He stepped into the foliage and began walking further until he saw a tiny man, in a long white shirt and loose-fitting pants, sitting in a ball in the leaves. His head lowered on his knees as his body shook lightly as he pushed to breathe between whimpers.

Obviously, not having heard Romano's approach, he didn't raise his head and continued to cry. Romano felt his heart sink and stepped closer, making a rustle in the leaves to announce his presence. Veneziano glanced up and saw Romano's silhouette standing next to him. He quickly dried his eyes and tried to hide all evidence of his emotions. Romano sidled over until he was next to Veneziano and crouched down next to him, avoiding his brother's wide-eyed look at him. He tried not to notice the faint tears at the corner of his eyes.

For a while, Romano simply sat there, not knowing what to say or do to rectify the situation. Veneziano had bolted out of the house into the dark as soon as he had seen him in the most compromising position he'd ever been in his life. Right now he wished he could curl into a corner and die, but he had to be responsible…

…he had to be an older brother.

"L-listen Veneziano…I think we have a misunderstandin-."

"What's there to not understand, fratello," Veneziano interrupted with pained emotions showing through his voice, "There's nothing to misunderstand with what I saw! I saw what I shouldn't've and no matter what you say I know what I saw."

Romano just exhaled sharply listening to his little brother express himself. He ran his hand through his bangs and shook his head.

"N-no Feli. You don't understand, really. It'd be hard to explain. I don't even really understand it okay?"

"You understood it, fratello! You knew what he was doi-."

"Fuck! Feliciano! I am trying to talk, god dammit," Romano said aggravated shaking his hands in the air. Feliciano shuddered and shut his mouth as Romano caught his breath and tried to gather his thoughts again. "I really, _really_, do not know what happened," he began again as calmly as he could; "I was just lying there…he came and did…_that_…and…I just don't know Feli. All I know is it happened and nothing will change that. All we can do is put it behind us. Right?"

Veneziano nodded lightly as he traced his finger on the ground; his cinnamon hair lightly blowing to the side in the wind, his eyes downcast and watering slightly at the thought of his fratello underneath Spain.

"Listen, Feli…I was thinking," Romano managed to say as his heart squeezed in his chest, feeling like it was about to explode from tension, "We all know your name to trick humans is Feliciano, and mine is Lovino…but we haven't been given last names. We just…if anyone asks we just make one up off the top of our heads for that moment, si?"

"Si," Veneziano answered, turning his head to face Romano. He noticed the slightly blush on Romano's cheeks and contained a chuckle. He knew his fratello always had problems expressing himself; much less trying to cheer somebody up.

"I-I…dammit…I was thinking…since we're brothers and all…we should share a last name." Veneziano's eyes widened as he looked at his brother. Never had he ever proposed, in any way, that they be tied together in any way. When they were given human names he denied the idea of matching last names to show their kindred.

"Lovino…do you really mean that?"

"S-si…we should share a last name. I was just stubborn and hurt before. You know me," he chuckled awkwardly avoiding his brother's amazed gaze aimed at him, "a-and I was thinking it should be 'Vargas'. Y'know…like that artist that does the pin-up girls."

Veneziano giggles and threw his arms around his brothers happily. His cheeks were painted a light pink with happiness as he nuzzled into his brothers shoulder.

'Grazie Fratello~," he nearly sang. Romano grunted in reply as he tried to push Veneziano off his arm. Veneziano let go but crawled over so he was straddling Romano's lap. Romano nearly jumped from the sight, but he was held in place as Veneziano's arms wrapped around his back. He decided not to push Veneziano off after some debate.

_He's been through enough for one day. I guess I could treat him nice for just this once._

_**Just**__ this once._

Romano patted Veneziano's back softly and brushed his lips along his temple. Veneziano blushed at the warmth and buried his face in the connection of Romano's neck and shoulder. However, as he inhaled his face curdled into a scowl. The smell of Spain still lay on Romano's skin; that strong smell of paprika and saffron that follows Spain wherever he goes. Veneziano hid his growl as he pulled away from his polluted brother; he managed to keep a smile plastered on his face. He kept his stance straddling Romano's crossed legs and giggled.

"Feliciano Vargas," Veneziano said pointing to his chest. Romano nodded with a slight smile. Veneziano placed his finger atop Romano's nose, "Lovino Vargas."

"Si, Feli. Now, no matter what we'll be tied together in name, at least…ya know…fucker," Romano began to mutter again in embarrassment. Veneziano giggled before placing a light kiss on Romano's lips. He didn't bother to linger there too long, since he could smell the Spaniard all over Lovino.

"G-Goddamit! F-Feli what did I just say about-."

"I know, I know, fratello. I was just so happy!"

"Fine…l-lets just get you inside."

"Si~. Fratello needs a bath," Veneziano giggled.

"…shut up."

Veneziano nodded and stood, allowing Romano to stand and brush off the back of his pants. Veneziano grabbed his hand and allowed Romano to usher him carefully out of the field.

-*~seperation marker~*-

Germany sat himself down on the couch and ran his hands over his face as Spain went into the adjoining kitchen to make him a drink. He opened the tiny window that connected the living room and the kitchen and asked what Germany usually imbibed on.

"Beer," the Germany said roughly. Spain chuckled with a slight twitch in his smile.

"W-well…"

"If you don't have beer, anything else will do. Anything with a little alcohol would help."

"Si~," Spain smiled as he reached into the cabinet and pulled out a light, white wine and poured it into the glass. He then added a bit of club soda and fresh cute lemons and orange slices. He walked out to the living room and handed Germany the fresh drink. Germany eyed it curiously as Spain took the seat across from him and sipped at his own. "It's sangria. Usually you use red whine but I figured white would be more relaxing this late at night."

Germany lifted the glass to his lips and savored the aroma, a soft tinge of lemon and orange that seemed to mix together and explode in the air with the light bubbles that tickled his nose. He took a sip and savored the surprisingly tart and sweet flavors on his tongue. "Your people invented this, huh?"

"Si. Apparently they liked fruity drinks. It's not bad. If you want something stronger I can ma-."

"Nein. That will not be necessary," Germany took another sip smiling lightly, "I can understand why your people are so cheerful, Spain."

Spain wordlessly took another sip of his drink and reclined farther into his chair. He placed his arm on the rest and placed his cheek upon his fist and glanced out the window. His gaze seemed not to rest on the fields that lay dormant just outside that window, but he glanced to the farthest reaches of the world and beyond.

Germany noticed the hollowness in Spain's eyes and leaned over, placing his drink on the table. He stayed leaning over as he rested his elbows on his knees and looked over Spain's person. "Okay, Spain, I'll bite. What happened?"

Spain was shocked back into the present and glanced over at Germany with a smile. "I don't know what you're talking about Ludwig."

"Antonio," Germany said in a serious tone looking into Spain's adverted eyes, knowing the usual joyous Spaniard only used their human names when something was on his mind, "I know when you're lying. Now, what happened? Romano isn't here to keep you quiet. And I won't tell him anything you tell me."

Spain sat up in his chair and leaned over to put his sangria down on the table. He leaned back and ran his hands over his face, pulling the skin slightly and rubbing at his eyes. "It's…Ludwig…has Veneziano seemed…funny to you recently? Like…not himself?"

Germany leaned back pressing his back to the couch and raised an eyebrow. "No…can't say that he has."

"O-oh," Spain faltered before regaining his composure and took a deep calming breath, "Well, recently he's been…not himself. Veneziano has seemed…almost cruel. And saying…things…He's been saying so many things, Ludwig."

Germany sat farther on the couch cushion, his curiosity peaked, "what sort of things, Antonio?"

Spain swallowed at the stone in his throat, fruitlessly trying to rid himself of it. After a few moments he gave up and continued his speech with the boulder impeding his voice, making it weak and scratchy. "H-he's been saying things, l-like he and Romano…that they've," His voice broke and he grabbed at his throat looking up at Germany trying to convey his meanings. His guests blue eyes grew wide in astonishment.

"T-There's no way in hell they've…"

"B-But Veneziano said they have! W-when I came home Veneziano was even hugging onto him without Romano trying to push him away! A-a-and V-Veneziano gave me details o-of what he says they did. I-I," Spain's voice broke again pathetically as a slight tear rolled down his cheek, "I even smelled Romano _and_ Veneziano's scent on my pillows when I arrived home!"

Germany took in short shallow breaths as he wrapped his brain around Spain's words. W-Was this the alcohol talking? Spain hadn't had much in Germany's presence, and the man was often boisterously loud and jovial, or conquistador-like when drunk, so that option was ruled out. He knew it would be out of character for Veneziano, but…

"D-do you suppose that he was lying? I-I mean he could have stretched the truth. M-maybe they kissed and Veneziano took it as more than that…o-or the cuddled in their sleep and what Veneziano was talking about was a dream?"

"B-but the acid in his eyes as he told me the details, Ludwig! A-And Romano would never kiss Veneziano romantically. It's all so confusing, dammit," Spain held his head in his palms, running his fingers through his hair.

"O-okay. W-well I don't know what happened," Germany said rubbing his temple as he leaned against the side of the couch, "B-but all this doesn't explain to me why Veneziano would go running from the house in the middle of the night."

Spain took in a sharp breathe, realizing he would have to tell Germany everything. He chuckled awkwardly and inhaled softly, "W-well…that's…you know…," Germany raised his eyebrow at Spain as Spain fought to keep his eyes adverted from Germany's. "W-well Veneziano was talking, in detail, how he was making Romano…his…and moan and writhe underneath him while I was gone. A-and how they would…have their…rendezvous…on my bed. A-and I got m-mad and hit Veneziano on the ch-cheek."

"You hit him!" Germany shouted standing up with clenched fists.

"I-It was an accident!"

"No wonder he left! God damit, Spain, you don't know how much strength you have!"

"I-I'm not the reason he left," Spain managed to scream over him, "I-It was something else."

Germany's body was tense, but he managed to sit himself on the couch and take a few more deep breaths. "C-continue."

Spain lowered his gaze to the floor, watching his big-toe make tiny circles on the floor as he gathered his courage. "W-well~," Spain chuckles awkwardly, "I h-hit Veneziano and Romano came inside and saw…and he scolded me but helped clean the wound in the kitchen. S-so I came in and apologized and since it was so late I proposed we all head to bed…S-since Veneziano was the guest he'd of course sleep in Lovino's room, and he and I would sleep in mine. W-well Lovi headed to bed first, and since he was overheated from gardening he stripped and lay under the fan to get some air. A-and I saw him when I walked in…a-and all those thoughts Veneziano had filled me with came to me in a flash. I lost myself and I went on the bed and h-held him down and pretty m-much."

"I-I get it! Spare me some details please! I got the point!"

Spain chuckled nervously and nodded. "My apologies. W-well anyway…just as I was about to…well ya know…Veneziano walked in and saw the preparations. A-and he looked horrified for a few seconds before running out of the house. S-so Romano and I got dressed and ran after him but we'd already…pretty much…lost him."

Germany sat back against the couch rubbing his temples with his thumb and middle finger. He uses his palm to hide the obvious blush that dusted his cheeks as he tried not to create any mental images of what Spain had just told him. "S-So what you're saying is…he walked in on your foreplay basically."

Spain looked at the ground blushing, "S-si…"

Germany sighed and imagined himself in Veneziano's shoes. "I-If I walked in on Prussia and…God knows who, like that I would definitely run out too," he muttered aloud to himself, "B-but this still doesn't explain why Feliciano would be saying sexual things about Lovino."

Spain shrugged and glanced up at Germany, "I don't get it either, Ludwig. I-I mean they just united after being apart so long…maybe he's just being nostalgic since they haven't been together in so long. Maybe he's trying to make up for all the years they've been apart."

"That could be it," Germany concurred before taking in a deep breath and grabbing at his belly, nauseous at his own thoughts, "Y-you don't suppose that it's more than nostalgic affection…Do you think…he's really in love with Lovino, a-and that he's just…jealous of you?"


	18. Chapter 18

Spain felt his fingers go stiff as he stared across the table into the earnest blue eyes of the burly German before him. Had he heard him right? His mawsitsit-colored eyes grew wide in shock, until the budding of tears grew on the corners, forcing his eyes to close for a second before growing wide again. He swallowed at the stone in his throat before he managed to chuckle humorlessly.

"H-how could that possibly be? G-Germany, you must be mistaken," He chuckled again dryly. Germany dug the heel of his hand into his eye pressing lightly, taking deep breaths as he tried to gather his thoughts.

Germany took two fingers to his collar and stretched it out trying to get some air on his suddenly warm body. He loosened his tie with the light tug, but it was not enough to quell the burning of his flesh. "May I remove my jacket?" he asked to Spain. Spain nodded slightly and waited patiently as Germany stood and slid his tan jacket and folded it neatly over his arm.

He sat back down placing the jacket to his side and crossing his legs. He ran his hand through his golden hair and sighed. "Unfortunately I am. I wouldn't kid about this, Spain."

"B-but, little Feli…in love with Lovino...that's completely out of character for him. L-Ludwig…that's _incest_."

"I'm well aware of that, Antonio. But if you look at the reasoning… it seems to be one of the only logical conclusions."

Spain laid his back against the chair and splayed his legs in front of him. He knew the Germanics always has a knack for logic and problem-solving…it was how they were such engineers and mathematicians. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, slowly realizing if Germany had sufficient cause to think of Feli loving his Lovi…it would, more than likely, be true.

"What's your reasoning, Ludwig?" Spain said exasperatedly laying his hand in his palm.

_I don't want to hear any of this…but…It has to be said…and we have to figure this out_

Germany nodded to himself and placed his thumb and forefinger on his chin pinching it lightly, a nervous habit of his he'd developed throughout the years.

"Well for one Romano and Veneziano have been separated their entire lives, but I know Veneziano has always looked up to his elder brother. We all do really. The juniors look up to their elders and expect nothing but greatness. And despite his many flaws…I mean many many many flaws….so many flaws that…"

"I get it, Ludwig," Spain interrupted breaking Germany from his incoherent thoughts and snapping him back on track.

…He probably got stuck on that track thinking of his elder brother Prussia…

"A-ah…my apologies. But despite his many flaws…Veneziano still idolizes Romano. I've heard him say it many times; but despite the adoration, he was always afraid of approaching Romano. Not just for the obvious reasons, but also because deep down he was afraid he would be met with disapproval."

"Strange. Romano was always curious at to Veneziano's well-being," Spain chimed in with a raised eyebrow.

"Then it seems they both pined for a reunion, and likewise were both afraid of disapproval. However, idolization and adoration can often be mistaken for feelings of love. Perhaps…perhaps Italy is confusing that feeling for love."

"N-no that couldn't be it. As a child Veneziano idolized Donatello, Michelangelo, Machiavelli, and many other artists. He's always been aware of his feelings and wouldn't confuse adoration and love so easily."

Germany grunted and nodded in reply, "That may be, but they were humans and Veneziano was aware they would die and probably made sure to kept his distance. Romano and himself are not dying any time soon, so that may be fueling, in a sense, his desire for Romano's acceptance. And that 'acceptance' could be in the form of romantic love."

Spain stared straight into the eyes of Germany as the words swirled around his brain. He rubbed his temple feeling as if bees were stinging his cerebral cortex. He sighed and ran his hands all along his skull trying to quell the pain. "And your other reasoning? Surely there must be more."

"Ja, there is," Germany sighed and places his ankle on his knee to relax as his hands crossed over his belly, "From what you've told me, Italy came to you and told you he and Romano had…umm… relations while you were gone," Germany slightly blushed and cleared his throat with a light cough, "correct?"

"W-well for the most part. I came to Feli telling him I had a strange daydream where he had kissed Romano while he slept. And when I was done telling him that he smirked…_smirked_ Ludwig, Italy doesn't usually smirk…b-but, he smirked and told me it was true and it had happened."

Germany raised an eyebrow, "daydream?"

"A-ah…si. While I was at the meetings for the uprisings I was in the meeting and I had this daydream where…Feli went into Lovi's room…well…_my_ room that he was sleeping in…but anyway, so he went into his room and began to kiss him."

"So you had this daydream and Italy confirmed it?"

"Si," Spain sighed sadly feeling his heart wretch in his chest. He could feel slime coagulate in the back of his throat and swallowed lightly, still making an audible 'gulp' noise.

"And why would he possibly do that for Spain?"

Spain chuckled slightly biting his lower lip in thought for a few moments, "You're acting like a therapist, Ludwig. But…I honestly don't know why."

Germany pressed his thumbs together and spoke, "my idea is that he was trying to distance you and Romano. He probably believes you and his brother are quite close living in the same house for most of the year. Creating distance would give him a chance to possibly… further his own relationship with Romano…if you catch my drift of course," Germany questioned with a down turned gaze. Spain put his lips together in a straight line and nodded issuing Germany to continue.

"Well…if he _wants_ to create distance between you and Romano then there must be a reason. I doubt that he despises you, since you and he were on good terms when he was a child. And even recently, during the meetings before all this," Germany waves his hands in the air, "happened. So, a logical conclusion would be jealousy."

Spain nodded and leaned forward taking his sangria between his ring and middle finger, placing it to his lips and emptying the glass of its contents. He then placed it back on the table and copied Germany's stature in his own chair; crossing his ankle onto the other leg and placing his hands over his belly.

"N-now about that other matter…where Italy walked in on you and…," Germany coughed awkwardly making Spain chuckle and nod with his eyes closed.

"You needn't say it, if it makes you that uncomfortable mi amigo."

"D-danke. So he walked in on…that…and he ran? Instantly?"

"Not instantly. He kind of took in the scene for a moment before he darted. I think he was just in shock…"

"Perhaps," Germany nodded as he shivered remembering the many times he'd walked in on Prussia. He shook the thoughts from his head with a grunt of disgust and regained his composure, "W-when somebody walks in on a…rendezvous like that…they usually instantly bolt because they become embarrassed and quite mortified. To stand there and just take in the scene you must have a lot of thoughts just running rampant leaving your legs unwilling to move."

"Thoughts?"

"Ja. In this case it might have been: "this is all my fault" or "what is _my _brother doing with _him_" or perhaps even coming to terms with his incestuous feelings…since of course he saw Romano naked and…defiled," Germany blushes again as his mind scrabbled on itself not to create visual images.

"Why would Feli think this were his fault?"

"Well, he told you about their escapades in an attempt to distance you and Romano," Germany held up his hand to keep Spain quiet just before he spoke, "let's just say. But, instead of distancing you…he made you act and thus…well…j-ja. Anyway, he would be thinking of how he'd probably ruined his chances with Romano and…here we are. He ran from the house and now he's probably mulling things over in his mind and, hopefully, coming to the conclusion that he and Romano should not become closer than brothers."

"Si," Spain said excitedly as he scooted to the edge of the cushion, crouched slightly as his elbows rested on his knees, "You think he'd reach that conclusion? Even after all the things he tried to do to separate my Lovi and I?"

Germany raised an eyebrow and nodded, "we can hope he's coming to that conclusion. Are you and…Lovi," the name slipped off his tongue uncomfortably, "legit together?"

Spain's smile faded and he shook his head, "no, I couldn't tell him I love him and all that…I-I'm just not ready."

Germany nodded, "J-ja…but after what you've done you may need to tell him soon."

_Oh Dio…what have I done? What does Lovi think about me now?_

Spain nodded defeated. "Si…I will try."

Germany noted the downcast eyes of Spain and stood from the couch placing his arm on his shoulder and gripping lightly; his method of reassurance. "D-don't worry so much."

Spain nodded, "S-si," he laughed, "I can only hope Lov-." The small wood door opened revealing Romano and Veneziano coming back inside. Their fingers twined together. Germany and Spain stared at them for a moment as Veneziano bounded in happily after his brother.

"The fuck ya lookin' at?" Romano said aggravated and embarrassed. Germany and Spain placed their hands up while their eyes darted away. Romano cursed a few more times under his breath. Veneziano looked into the living-room surprised to see the large German standing there, seemingly out-of-place among the smaller, tanner nations.

"L-ludwig. I didn't know you were here," Veneziano said slightly embarrassed as he glanced at the floorboards sheepishly.

"J-ja. I noticed you weren't at the meetings so I came here to find if you were sick."

"I'm fine, Ludwig, no need to worry," Italy flashed a smile and tilted his head to the side cutely.

_There he is, acting innocent again_.

"Why don't you come and visit with us, Feli," Spain stood extending his arms to show he was welcome in the room, even though his eyes burned through Veneziano's hand trying to remove it from Romano's.

Veneziano shook his head. "Fratello and I are tired. The Vargas siblings are heading to bed now…once Fratello gets a bath. He smells like _dirt_," he accentuated looking straight at Spain with intense cinnamon-colored eyes, resembling hell-flame. Spain looked at Germany, trying to get his point across silently.

_You see that?_

_Ja. But this could be a one time thing…  
><em>

"Vargas…Vargas brothers?" Spain said confused raising an eyebrow and glancing between Romano and Veneziano.

"Si! Fratello said-."

"Shut the hell up already, Feli, I thought you were tired," Romano interrupted pulling his arm towards the hallway.

"Si, I am, "he yawned slightly rubbing his eye with the back of his hand.

"Spain," Romano began in a low voice avoiding eye contact with him, "Feli is sleeping in my room…with me. Okay?"

…_It's no wonder he wouldn't want to look at me._

"Si. I understand. I hope you both sleep very well."

Romano scowled and pulled his brother into the hallway out of Germany and Spain's view. Germany placed his hand on Spain's shoulder again and nodded.

_Give him time_…

"Si. Well since you'll be staying the night, would you like to sleep in my room? My bed's pretty comfortable and-."

"Nein," Germany said eagerly, "N-not with…well anyway, I can sleep on the couch. Thank you very much though."

"No Problem," Spain chuckled scratching the back of his head.

_Either he doesn't want to sleep in Italian cum (or…at least Italia Romano's cum) or he's afraid I'll mistake him as Lovi in the middle of the night…_

"Here," Germany said taking the drinks from the table, "I'll put these away for you. Just sit there for a while and gather your thoughts, or else you'll get a nightmare."

"Ah. Thank you very much, Ludwig."

Germany turned on the ball of his feet and nearly entered the hall when he saw the brothers at the end. He quickly retreated around the corner and kept his ears alert in their direction. He even made his breathing shallow in order to keep them unaware of his presence. A trick picked up after years of warfare.

"Ve~ But fratello we should tell them that we-."

"Not a chance in hell, Feli," Romano growled.

"Aw~ okay."

"S-stop pouting dammit! W-we'll tell them eventually! After that little slip-up they'll probably be pretty damn curious now!"

"…Sorry."

"S-stop pouting, dammit! I-it's okay…I guess. Just go to bed, dammit, I'll be there in a moment. Just gotta get the smell you keep complaining about off me."

"Alrighty…can I get a hug first?"

"C-chigi! W-why the hell would I do that?"

"'Cause I want one…"

"F-fine, dammit. Don't expect anything else though."

Veneziano squealed and jumped into Romano's arms. Ludwig peered over the corner like a sleuth and beheld the angelic smile that overtook Veneziano's face as he nuzzled into Romano's hair. Veneziano's hand gripped Romano's hair tenderly as Veneziano snuck small kisses on the fabric of Romano's shirt.

"Ti amo, fratello," He murmured into his shoulder.

Romano sighed and ran his hand over Veneziano's back and grumbled, "Ti amo."

The embrace ended and Romano went into the restroom thinking nothing of the irregular amount of affection Veneziano showed his shoulder. Veneziano bounded into the bedroom and both doors shut with a synchronous 'click'.

Germany strode away into the living room setting the cups onto the table to get Spain's attention. Spain looked up with a questionable look and his green eyes looked upon the frantic azure eyes of his guest.

"Ludwig…what is it?"

"V-ve have a situation," His accent slipped showing he was too occupied in his mind to try to hold it back.

Greece walked along the stone road; stopping to lean on the side of a building and doze every now and then. The locals, being used to his narcoleptic tendencies, would gently shake his shoulder and send him on his way. They would make sure he got home so he wouldn't sleep outside and catch a cold

…again….

Eventually, at nightfall, Greece managed to step into his house and lean against the wall as he removed his shoes. They fell heavily on the ground sending a figure to jump from the couch with a light scream. Greece lazily looked over and saw a man in a deep-indigo kimono standing there running his hands through his hair in an attempt to ease it back down.

"G-gomen*. I didn't mean to…fall asleep here."

Greece glanced over Japan with a light smirk on his lips, "No need…to worry…so much."

Japan nodded awkwardly and finished fixing his hair, gently placing his hands on his thighs and bowing.

"W-welcome home."

"…thank you…why are you here…not that I mind…not at all…"

Japan squirmed slightly and glanced down at the large rug covering the stone floors. "No comment."

Greece nodded knowing how flustered his guest would be if he pushed any further. He removed his tan over-shirt and threw it down near his shoes before walking to the couch and sitting down lazily. He cracked open his eye and saw Japan fidgeting and looking around the room.

"You…can sit here…I won't mind."

"H-hai…thank you…"

Japan sat on the cream-colored couch and played with the hem of his sleeve. Greece sat up before leaning over and resting his head on his shoulder. He felt the muscles grow tense for a second under his ear. He knew how reserved Japan could be and chuckled lightly at how he was slowly becoming relaxed under his weight.

From where he sat Greece could look out the window that showed the vast night-sky stretched over the calm sea.

_The stars hold stories, my son, if you look hard enough you can see the greatest heroes that ever lived._

_Mama…will I ever…be a hero?_

_I hope not! I don't want to let my son become stars! I'd miss you too much!_

Greece chuckled at the memory of his mother's calm voice. He looked out into the stars and easily found the greatest heroes of his people.

"Japan…have you ever heard…of constellations?"

"…I can't say that I'm familiar with them."

"Oh…well certain stars hold stories…I've told you…a few myths of my people… right?"

"A-ah…you have. I enjoy them very much."

Greece nuzzled into Japans arm letting his cheek rest lightly. He took a deep breath and smiled. "Would you like…to hear one of my favorites?"

Japan allowed his hand to gently move in Greece's hair, moving the gentle, sun-soaked, brunette locks to-and-fro. "I would like that…if you wish to tell me."

Greece nodded and thought for a second. "There was this man…named Orpheus…and he played music on his lyre so well…it would calm the seas…and people couldn't help but begin to dance. During a drought…he played so well the heavens sent down rains…and the crops grew."

"Sounds amazing," Japan said, his interest peaked.

"He was very amazing. He was the son of Calliope…the muse of epic poetry and music. So of course he would be…renowned for his music…However, one day he played him music in the forest…and he was drawn to the sound of an elderly tree in the woods…he went to the tree and played near it. That's how Eurydice, daughter of Apollo…the god of light…was born. The tree split open and she stood before Orpheus…and he was amazed at her beauty…and they were soon wed. Since his music had brought the wood nymph…Eurydice into the world of men…"

"That's very romantic," Japan blushed lightly. Not exactly knowing why his heart palpitated.

"It was romantic…I suppose…but…I'm afraid it's not over yet…they were married through the spring and summer…and they loved each other as if there were no others they would love…However, she would pine away for the forest…saying she heard the woodlands calling to her…and Orpheus tried to keep her away…he knew the forest held satyrs…Satyrs are men…with the legs of a goat…who give themselves up to pleasure and nothing else."

"…They sound horrifying, Greece," Japan shuddered lightly imaging rabid satyrs running around deviously. "…did he manage to keep her from the forest?"

Greece sadly shook his head. "No…she went into the forest once during a festival…There she was beheld by a satyr…and chased through the forest. But as she was running…a snake bit her ankle and the poison seeped through her system…Orpheus heard her screams and ran into the woods after her…only to behold her die in his arms."

Japan looked down and pouted his lips softly, "that's so sad."

"Yes...it is…he brought her back to the festival and stood…and told the people…that she was dead…and they ceased their dancing and began preparing her a funeral pyre…he told them…he was going to break his lute…for since she was dead there would be no more music. And as her body burned…the satyr from the forest urged Orpheus to bring her back…since his music could do anything…even cheat death. Orpheus became full of hope…and vigor and he screamed to Zeus and the Gods…a vow…that he would travel to Hades…and bring her back."

Greece sat up off Japan's shoulder and walked over to the window and placed his hand on the cool glass, "And only with his music… he traveled down to the underworld where nobody had ever returned."

Japan nodded, knowing Greece was not finished with his tale. Greek Myths never ended on such ambiguous notes. He noted the lack of pauses in Greece's words now and knew that Greece was interested in the story whole-heartedly. He didn't want to interrupt anymore and just silently urged for Greece to continue.

"And so…he descended into Hades and reached the river Styx…the river you must cross in order to reach the underworld…there he saw his wife approaching the boatman…and she climbed upon the boat and drank from the cup the boatman gave her…the cup contained the sweet waters of forgetfulness. No matter how loud he screamed…she didn't hear him and continued to drink as she was ferried across the river. Orpheus could only wait for the ferry to return…and when it returned he played a tune that ushered the ferry close so he could climb on. The ferryman was awe-struck with the music and began to ferry Orpheus across as the music he played lulled him. Being in Hades, you see…in Hades there is no sound…so…he hadn't heard lovely music in so long…"

Japan nodded again as Greece's hand became a fist that lightly rests against the window. Greece took a deep breath and continued once he had calmed his nerves. These stories his mother taught him always spiked his nerves. He could feel as if the Gods were next to him playing the stories out as he spoke.

"And as he reached the other side…he followed the phantom of Eurydice…no matter how fast Orpheus ran after her…he couldn't reach her. The smoke cleared, and he was standing before Hades, and his wife and Queen, Persephone, by his side. Hades question Orpheus of who he was and Orpheus told him. Hades smiled and asked for what he has come to the underworld for. Orpheus answered that he wished to have the soul before him for judgment that he wished to take Eurydice home with him. Hades scoffed at him and claimed nothing to be stronger than death…and Orpheus began to play."

Japan smiled lightly, hoping that Hades would be wooed by his lyre just as everything else had.

"Hades only laughed louder and declared: "fear me, for I am the bored audience of the theatre. I am the name who should not be spoken, for fear of it being heard and I sit next to you. I am waiting, little musician, for one day I will come for you, and then, and only then, you will see your wife once more."

Greece took a deep, shuddering breath at having to act out Hades' part. He felt his bones tighten against his tendons in the presence of pure evil. The same way his body felt when he happened to run into Turkey. He shook his head lightly and relaxed his body once more.

"But Orpheus wouldn't give up. He played his music again to Queen Persephone. Persephone began to tell Orpheus of how she was tricked into wedding Hades, and how he forced her to stay there…during the winter months. She warned him…that Hades would trick him as well. But still Orpheus played; Hades deaf to the wondrous music, but Persephone moved to unbearable sadness. She cried and told Orpheus that everything…everything must die…Orpheus lamented and proclaimed that death was only an absence, and absence isn't forever…even the Earth, who is dead for six months of the year, returns to life."

His shoulder slackened and he smiled lightly, "Persephone was moved and dropped to the floor before Hades throne and began begging for Hades to relinquish the soul of Eurydice to Orpheus. Hades chuckled at how easily his wife was contorted to Orpheus's whims and spoke again: "Very well, little musician, take your wife to the upper-world, but you must always walk ahead of her, and if you dare look back at her to see if she is following…she will be mine once more."

Japan smiled and moved to the edge of his seat, "And Orpheus got his wife back again?"

Greece placed his head upon the glass allowing the cold night air to seep into his skull cooling his head to prevent his tears.

"Orpheus walked…ahead of Eurydice just as Hades had instructed…but as he walked he became paranoid…was she really following? Was Hades lying to him? How could he trust what he had told him? Imagine, the love of your life behind you…but you mustn't look upon them. It began to drive Orpheus mad. By the time he reached the ferry across the river Styx he began to doubt that Eurydice was really behind him…but he kept his composure and reached the steep hill that lead to the upper-world…our world…and as he began to see daylight he kept his face down urging himself not to think of her…Just as he reached the opening of the cave that reached to Hades. Just as he began to hear the wind and the birds singing, he dared to peek behind him. Her soul fled back to Hades…"

Japan looked down at the rug again, crestfallen and holding his chest feeling his heart pound roughly against his chest. "That's…so sad…"

Greece nodded, "He'd lost his love forever…and so he sat on the ground and seemed dead inside. He began trying to destroy his lyre, but as he hit it repeatedly, a sound emitted from it filled with hate and anger. A sound that angered the Gods and could stop love before it started. The people of his town surrounded him with their farming tools…and killed him…tearing his body limb from limb. His body was thrown piece to piece into the river, his head forever more singing her name."

Japan scooted back onto the couch and rubbed a single tear from his eye.

"So…perhaps love is stronger than death," Greece spoke sadly rubbing at his eyes but allowing his tears to fall. Tears just like his mother had let shed the first time she told him this story. "But…if you look behind you…you tend to loose sight of what's coming ahead…you loose sight…of what you're supposed to do."

Translations:

*Gomen – Sorry (Japanese)


	19. Chapter 19

Rating: M

Spain tilted his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. Seeing Germany so frantic definitely concerned him, but he was also aware of the alcohol running through their systems.

…Although Germany may be _slightly_ immune to alcohol now…

"What situation, Ludwig?"

Germany pointed to the hallways with both hands as a slur of incoherent speech spilled forth. "T-the Italies and the squeeze and the hall and amo! _Amo!"_

Spain nodded as Germany spoke trying his best to pick words out and connect them. Eventually his eyebrow furrowed and he stood up grabbing Germany forcefully by the shoulders. "Luddy. I need you to calm down and tell me what happened. Right now all I understand is there are two Italian hallways that are friends…and I highly doubt that's what the situation is."

Germany took a deep breath and straightened his spine as his eyes closed and he stood in thought. After a moment he nodded and began again. "D-don't call my Luddy. T-that's…just odd for me."

Spain chuckled and nodded, "Si. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Anyway, as I was saying…I saw the Italy brothers in the hallway, but they didn't see me. So, I peeked at them and they were hugging. And saying "ti amo!" I don't know what the hell a "ti" is but an 'amo' is 'love' right?"

"S-si…'amo' is love," Spain ran his hands through his hair awkwardly as his mind ran through the scenario, "B-But Ludwig, are you sure you're sure what you saw?"

Germany nodded, "Very sure."

Spain chuckled humorlessly and smiled up at Germany and patted his shoulder, "I'm sure you just thought you saw that. You and I have had a lot of alcohol tonight…so we're probably not too sure of reality and delusion…we should just sleep this off and keep our eyes on them."

"J-ja…but…"

"Trust me Ludwig; I'm sure you just took that out of context if it _did_ happen. It could have been brotherly love…or even Feli meant it and Roma didn't. We. Don't. Know," Spain assured as calmly as he could. "Now, I will get you some linen from the closet for the couch and you can sleep there tonight."

Germany nodded complacently as he took a breath and sat on the couch, quietly giving his gratitude for Spain's hospitality. Spain patted Germany on the shoulder as he walked past him to the closet in the hallway, opening the large wooden door and coming back with pure white sheets that Romano had used as a child. Spain chuckled at the memories the soft fabric brought him under his fingertips. He walked back to Germany grinning and placed a pillow and blanket by him softly.

"Just sleep when you're ready, si?"

"J-ja…danke. I will try not to make too much noise."

"Don't worry. We're all heavy sleepers here."

…_except for Feli apparently…_

Germany began unfolding the sheet and spreading it over the couch cushions as Spain made sure he was okay. Once assuaged that his guest would be fine on the couch for the night Spain turned on the ball of his foot and made his way down the hall. As he reached his large oak door with crayon stains on the bottom the door to the bathroom opened, letting loose a large cloud of steam and a dark figure with a fluffy white towel.

Spain froze and gazed upon the figure in the cloud. As the cloud situated and settled on the floor Spain met himself eye-to-eye with the golden-gazed Lovino. Spain felt a blush go across his face but didn't look away. He motioned to the door as Romano looked at him curiously.

"W-was just heading to bed Romano," He chuckled nervously, "I-I hope you sleep well."

Romano grunted in reply as he threw the towel over his shoulder and went to his own door briskly opening it and closing it hurriedly. Spain looked over the door for a few moments before diverting his gaze down and taking hold of the handle to his room and entered the dimly lit room. He would have to change the old light bulb soon; the light was melancholy and tinted orange, just barely holding onto life.

He sighed and plopped onto the bed and rolling onto his side. The sheets were still slightly damp from Romano's sweat. Spain ran his fingers over the small dots of sweat as he allowed his eyes to wander over the area slowly visualizing the small Italian sleeping next to him. Warm. His.

_And not with that damned Feli…_

Spain shook his head lightly as he took a hold of the pillow Romano has been lying on and brought it to his chest. He dug his face into the corner and inhaled, becoming comforted by the soft cilantro scent.

"Ti amo," he chocked out as he wrapped his legs around the lower half of the pillow trying to imagine it was his Lovi, "ti amo."

Veneziano sat up in bed clutching the soft covers to his chest in angst as he listened as best he could towards the door. He had heard the door to the bathroom open, and Spain's voice shortly afterwards. That means his Lovi was speaking to that Spaniard. He growled in his throat slightly before lying back down and shutting his eyes feigning sleep, but still concentrating all his senses to his hearing.

He heard the door open and creased his eye lazily looking in the direction. He saw a flustered Romano standing in front of the mirror running the towel over his chestnut hair. Romano rested his hands on the wooden dresser and looked at himself in the mirror sighing, before looking over his shoulder and noticing Veneziano glancing at him cautiously.

"Go to sleep, Feli."

"Are you okay Fratello?"

"Fine. Absolutely nothing wrong. Now just sleep and I'll join you in a minute. I just need to return the towel alright?" 

Veneziano smiled happily and nuzzled into the pillows cutely, his bright orange tank top barely peeking out from the top of the sheets. Romano sighed and walked out closing the door as quietly as he could holding the handle and not letting go until the door was completely closed. He ran the towel through his hair once more before glancing at Spain's door and feeling a sense of melancholy radiate from the other side.

_Maybe I should Say I'm sorry….dammit…He should be sorry but…I was rude so…fuck! I'll apologize Okay! Fucking conscience and its goddamn guilt!_

Romano made his way to the door and raised his knuckles as if to knock, but heard a small noise come from the other side. He placed his ear close to the door and closed his eyes focusing on trying to hear he noise again.

_Ti amo_

Romano's eyes grew wide as he stepped away from the door. He scurried into the bathroom placing the towel on the counter and glancing at himself in the mirror.

_W-Where the fuck did this blush come from? I am not blushing! T-that bastard is probably just lying to himself so he…but what if he really…fuck!_

He crouched down so his head was resting on the cool surface, avoiding the mirror at all costs.

_W-what…what if I love you too bastard…_

_What if he's just playing games with me…_

_God. Fucking. Dammit…_

He clutched at his black night-shirt trying to calm his heart as it beat rapidly against his will.

"What if…I love Antonio?" He whispered to himself, "I-I do…but he wouldn't believe me," he chuckled thinking about how often he showed the Spaniard his distain. His gaze fell on his toned legs as his finger played with the curve of his knee-cap. "He deserves someone better than me anyway."

He stood, avoiding his reflection's gaze, and hung the towel to dry on the rack behind him. He opened the bathroom door quietly and paused as he faced Spain's door. "Night," he muttered quietly to himself wishing he could go in there and repent for his rude behavior earlier; but there was no way in hell he would let Antonio see his face blushing. Whenever he blushed or squirmed Antonio had a way of getting the cause out.

Romano returned to the room and settled onto his side of the bed next to Veneziano. He reached over and tugged on the cord, effectively killing the light and blinding them. Romano lie in bed for a few moments feeling Veneziano rolling side to side uncomfortably with small whimpers and grunts.

"The hell ya think you're doing Feli?"

"I can't get comfortable, fratello. I usually sleep in the nude."

Romano growled in his throat, suddenly becoming aware of his own sleep-wear. "Yeah me too, but since you're here I'm sucking it up."

"You don't have to fratello~," Veneziano giggled, "we're brothers so I don't really care~."

Romano nodded and grunted as he sat up in bed and turned on the lamp, "fine. You can strip too. Just stay on your side of the bed tonight, deal?"

Veneziano nodded and reached for his bright orange tank top and slowly rolled it off as he peered over his shoulder seeing Romano take his black shirt off as well. The muscles freed of their fabric still showed small lines where the fabric had bunched and wrinkled under his contours. As Romano reached for his boxers Veneziano forced himself to look away and offer his brother at least that much privacy.

Once the brothers had stripped and gone under the sheets again, careful not to catch each others gaze, Romano reached for the light and offered them the cover of darkness again. Romano laid his skin against the cool fabric with a sigh of happiness and snuggled into his pillow. Veneziano, who feigned sleep, effectively managed to cross the gap in the bed between them and cling to Romano's arm without suspicion. Romano grunted and poked his head to see if he were awake, but being sure he was sleeping just sighed and allowed him to snuggle into his chest.

'When did he become so warm_?'_ He found himself thinking, 'he's pretty cute too. Always sleeping with a big, I-just-took-a-dump toddler smile.' Romano sighed and shut his eyes rolling his head to the side giving himself a big whiff of Veneziano's cinnamon hair. He smiled smelling the warm scent of cinnamon and basil. He found himself leaning slightly to kiss the crown of his slumbering brother's head and offering his sleeping head a "ti amo".

As Romano fell deeper into sleep his mind crept around lazily, "wait…Veneziano didn't have a problem sleeping dressed…when Spain wasn't around…oh well, probably just…nothing."

He fell into a deep sleep.

Romano found himself surrounded by bleak columns, clouds at his feet as they blew to and fro eerily. He raised an eyebrow and looked down at his shins, trying to find his feet in the mists, but being unable to see any further or to pull his legs up. He only sighed and trudged forward trying to make sense of the bleak vastness before him.

He saw a black figure approaching him and made a defensive stance, preparing himself for anything. As it approached closer he began to make out the figure of a curl. The dim light shined from above hitting the figure and illuminating the bright-orange head of Veneziano.

"D-don't scare me like that you fuckhead! When we're somewhere like this at least tell me that it's you before you get any closer! I almost killed you!"

Veneziano's face fell as he looked Romano up and down and crossed his arms, "Don't kid yourself. You couldn't do shit," he hissed.

Romano felt his heart palpitate painfully and he took a breath, "W-what? Feli don't you dare fucking talk to me like that! What's gotten into you?"

Veneziano scoffed and chuckles humorlessly as he motioned to the area around them with his arms outstretched, "What's gotten into _me?_ Let me think," he said with a chuckle tapping his chin in mock-thought, "I think I just realized what a piece of shit fratello you are."

Romano's eyes grew wide looking at his little brother before him; his usually robins-egg blue suit a funeral-attire black, the tie matching his blood-red eyes that burned into Romano's mercilessly. He took a deep breath and clenched his teeth together nearly cracking his teeth in half as he hissed, "You don't mean any of this Feliciano. Something's not right with you…"

"Fuck you, fratello. You think you know me so well. Well you don't!" Veneziano turned his back with one swift movement and disappeared into the mist, but his voice still roared from overhead, "In fact, I wish you were _dead_ fratello Lovino."

Romano sent his eyes heaven-ward and glanced all around him turning erratically in an attempt to find the source of the voice. "Y-You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I mean every word. This is the cold, hard truth and if you aren't man enough to deal with it, go curl up in a corner and die for all I care." the voice roared in anger, "I want you to die! You're an awful fratello and I hate you! I hate you, fratello. I hate you! I hate you! _Die. Die!_" The voice roared repeatedly as Romano dropped to his knees and covered his ears.

"You don't mean this Feli," He wept painfully.

"You will never be able to block me out! I want you to _die_ fratello! Die, Lovino! Die!"

Romano roared and pounded his fist into the ground sending shards of glass up into his hands, but he continued to slam them down and scream at the voice to cease. The ground shattered, sending Romano falling down into a pit of darkness covered in blood and tears as he looked up at the light overhead from where the voice came. He saw Feliciano's blood-red eyes smirking as he fell.

"F-Feli…"

Romano woke with a start as he threw the covers off himself and glanced around the dark room.

'_W-where the fuck did I land,'_ he thought sharply in panic before realizing he was in his room safe. He held his head in his hands and began trying to catch his breath as his body shook violently in fear. He reached over and turned on the lamp examining his surroundings, but mostly the sleeping man next to him.

_A-am I really a bad fratello? Does he really think I should die?_

Romano swallowed at the stone in his throat before reaching over and shaking Veneziano's shoulder lightly. The younger man grunted a few times before opening his eyes and rubbing them with the back of his fist to get used to the light. Veneziano glanced up at the frantic expression on Romano's face, which sent him shooting out of bed and touching Romano's cheek sweetly examining it curiously.

"F-fratello, w-what's wrong?"

Romano collapsed into Veneziano's arms having heard the sweet tone of his in lieu of the harsh one he'd only heard moments ago. "F-feli," he wept, "P-please tell me the truth? You think I'm a bad fratello, don't you?"

"H-Huh? I would never think that," Veneziano said wiping away the tears on Romano's face with his palm gently.

"Y-you do too. You just don't want me to know! I fucking know the truth now, Feli. Don't you fucking lie to me! You want me dead!"

"F-fratello Lovi! I would never think that! Where would you get that motion?" Veneziano held onto Romano's shaking figure tightly as he patted his hair softly. Romano only shook his head as it lie on Veneziano's chest. Veneziano placed his fingers under Romano's chin, tilting his head up so he could look into the tear-stricken golden eyes of his fratello. His body shook lightly as his breathing became labored glancing at the adorable face only inches from his own.

Keeping his fingers on Romano's chin keeping it tilted Veneziano moved so he was straddling Romano's waist, a blush creeping across his face. He bit his lip as he sat down, the gentle flesh of his vital regions meeting with the warmth of Romano's lower stomach. "I…I can prove it to you that I think no such thing, fratello Lovi."

"F-fel-," Romano began to say but was cut off by the warm lips of his brother tangling with his own. Romano's eyes grew wide but slowly closed themselves as he melted into the kiss, placing his hands along Veneziano's hips. Veneziano shuddered at Romano's warm palms being met with his cool skin as he ran his hands through Romano's hair softly, not bothering to avoid the erogenous curl.

Romano moaned against the slight caressed of his curl being touched and began nibbling at the lithe lips of his fratello. Veneziano smiled and eagerly opened his mouth allowing Romano's tongue to explore him. His lips mashed with Romano's as he half-heartedly fought for dominance of the kiss. Romano refused to allow it, and with one movement managed to move Feliciano so he was laying on the mattress underneath him, Romano in-between his legs. He slowly began grinding their growing members together unknowingly. They shuddered under the pleasure as Veneziano moved his hands around Romano's back pulling him closer as he lightly clawed his back trying to leave his mark.

"A-ah~ fratello~ ti amo~," Veneziano moaned in between kisses. Romano seemed as if he were under a trance as he reached down gripping Feli and his member and kept pushing, Veneziano writhing underneath him, breathlessly moaning his name. He leaned down and rampantly bit at Veneziano's neck running his tongue over the pulse.

Veneziano moaned as he admired the expanse of muscles that lay atop of him sending pleasure down his spine with every pump. His toes began fanning out as he let out rampant, breathy moans to show Romano his pleasure. He nipped at Romano's curl, sending his tongue over it softly ushering a shuddered moan from Romano.

"Oya~ Feli, we need to ta-," Spain began saying as he walked into the scene before him. His eyes shot wide as Romano and Veneziano's flushed faces turned towards him. They panted as their bodies shook lightly from the shock of sudden pleasure. Spain noticed the dried tears on Romano's cheeks and the distant look in his eyes.

_This sure as hell wasn't planned_…

Spain, being known as the country of passion, could always tell a purposeful passion from a spur-of-the-moment. He could feel the amber eyes of Veneziano burning towards him, and he placed his hands up and retreated keeping the door open a crack.

Romano panted heavily on Veneziano's shoulder for a second as his thoughts returned to him. He could feel Veneziano silently trying to urge him for more, but he simply rolled off of him, lying on his back trying to catch his breath.

"F-fratello…" Veneziano said distantly looking over at his elder brother. Romano's eyes closed and his chest moving up and down sucking in air rapidly.

"Just go to sleep, Feliciano. I'm sorry. That was all….an accident," Romano sighed feeling like he had taken advantage of his little brother.

_I know Spain deserves better than me…but so does Veneziano. Nobody deserves to be stuck with me. All of this was an accident._

Veneziano nodded sadly as he took the covers at his feet and rolled them up to his neck. He rolled onto his side keeping his eyes squinted so he could see Romano's expressions. Romano ran a hand over his face tiredly and reached for the light, shuffling in the dark for the covers and pulling them up to his chest right before his armpits.

"Dio…what have I done," He whispered into the dark.

Veneziano roused early in the morning as soon as light hit his face from the window. He sat up slowly stretching his arms out trying to regain feeling in them. Once he'd yawned and rubbed his eyes free of crust he glanced over at the angelic face of his sleeping fratello. His dark brown hair lay mussed over the pillow around his head in knots. His long eyelashes glimmering lightly in the morning light, but his brother remaining in sleep blissfully. His brow furrowed slightly from falling asleep deep in thought the night before.

Veneziano petted the bangs out of Romano's face and planted a light kiss on his forehead. With a smile he threw his legs over the side of the bed and crawled off slowly, as to avoid any more creaking noises than necessary. He walked quietly around the room and picked up some clothes so he could wash and get something to eat.

He placed on the black tank top and boxers, which fell like a tent over his small body, and continued to the door. Once he stepped outside he kept holding the handle until he was sure it wouldn't make any noise once he let go. He stepped into the bathroom and washed his face carefully and examined his eyes and features making sure he hadn't missed a spot…when he noticed it…

…a love bite…

_Romano left his mark on me~_

He smiled and fingered the small area with soft fingers, his body shivering as his mind turned his fingers into Romano lithe tongue exploring his body. He ran his hand over his chest as Romano had done, going further down until…

He blushed and snapped back into reality pulling his hand away from his body and carefully brushing his teeth avoiding his blushing face in the mirror. 'We didn't exactly go that far,' he thought sourly as he rinsed his mouth out. He ran a towel over his chin and exited the bathroom growling lightly at his missed opportunity.

The morning peace of the house gave his anger some relief. He had grown accustomed to the emptiness of the house in the mornings. He always woke up earlier than Romano, who would often sleep until noon on days where he wouldn't need to work as diligently on the fields. Veneziano merrily slid the door to the kitchen open, only to see Spain sitting at the table reading the morning paper drinking a large mug of coffee.

Veneziano froze momentarily as Spain glanced up and looked him up and down briefly before turning back to the paper. He entered the room and grabbed a mug from the cabinets, filling it with the black brew. He reached for the small, green ceramic sugar bowl next to the coffee-maker, but upon lifting its top he saw its contents had been emptied. He opened the cabinets overhead looking for the sugar bag and pushing aside a few mugs in an attempt to find a bag behind them.

"Feli the sugar bag is at the top of the pantry to your right," Spain said calmly taking a sip of his own overly-sweet coffee.

'The real sugar is in his room sleeping,' Veneziano thought to himself with a giggle and a blush as he reached on tip-toe to grab the extra sugar bag. Spain growled as he heard Veneziano's giggle, knowing full well what he was thinking. He glanced over at Veneziano's back noticing the darker colors that were out-of-character for him, and within seconds he easily placed the clothing as belonging to Romano. Spain's heart tensed up as his throat contracted, his voice becoming cold and hard.

"What are you wearing, Veneziano?"

Veneziano looked down at his attire and giggled openly as he patted his hands over the fabric and turned to Spain. "Do you like it? Lovi didn't mind me wearing it~. He said it kind of made us seem like a real couple."

Spain's back tensed as he stood up and tread over to the wall adjoining the living room and opened the decorative window with an audible _clack_. He nonchalantly rest his back against the wall with crossed arms as he glanced over his shoulder at the couch to see if he has roused his guest who should listen to this conversation.

"A couple?" He mused towards Veneziano urging him for details, even though he was unwilling to hear.

"Si~. When you left last night Lovino and I…," he giggled again with a mock blush over his face as he stirred his creamer into the coffee, "He and I united, Antonio. He was really eager~. Although it did hurt at first I got used to it and it felt so good~. I didn't know how warm cum was until I felt Lovi's~."

Spain chuckled humorlessly as he tilted his head to the side, "You're a damn good liar, you know that? If I didn't know better I would be a broken man right now, Feli."

Veneziano's spoon clinked against the edge of the glass loudly in his shock as he turned around wide-eyed staring into Spain's smirking glare. "W-wha-."

"I know you're lying now, Veneziano. Last night I knew as soon as I saw Romano's face that he wasn't in his right mind. And I _know_ you two didn't fuck last night because when you thought I left the door was still creaked open and I listened to him say it was all a mistake, and proceed to fall asleep."

Veneziano's tongue was twisted when he realized he was caught in his own lies. He grimaced and shot an angry look at Spain, "E-even so, Lovi and I are in love." 

"You really think Lovino loves you just because he almost fucked you in a moment of weakness?" Spain chuckled. Veneziano gripped his chest feeling his adrenaline push his heart unwillingly into beating faster.

"Y-you don't know anything!"

"Oh? I don't? I know that the relationship you want with Lovino would be considered incest. Why in the world would you want an incestuous relationship? Feli, I honestly think you're confusing your adoration for your brother as love."

"I would never confuse my feelings!" Veneziano boomed, "you think I'm dumb enough to confuse two simple emotions? I adored Machiavelli and Michelangelo, but I _love_ Lovino. I know my damned feelings, _Spain,_" he spat out his name like it was sour puss in his mouth, "I recommend you learn yours and back off."

Spain opened his mouth to speak again but Veneziano turned on his heel and left the room with an aura of fury surrounding him. When Spain was sure that the door to Romano's room had been shut and Veneziano safely out of ear-shot he left the kitchen.

_It's a great thing that Veneziano thought Germany was sleeping in my room, or he wouldn't have so easily spoken to me the way he did._

Spain reached the couch and knelt down looking at the faux-sleeping face of the German. He nudged Germany's side easily and Germany pretended to wake up until he realized it was Spain next to him and not Veneziano.

"I'm guessing you heard all of that?"

"….Ja."

"Ludwig, we have to do something. Quick."


	20. Chapter 20

Rating: T+ or M…depends on how you feel about certain topics

After a few fruitless attempts to keep the sun out of his eyes and remain comfortable Romano sat up in bed grudgingly and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands. He sniffled and yawned when he heard a giggle from across the bed. He glanced over, his vision still hazy, and growled.

"What the hell ya think ya laughin' at Feli?" Romano grunted stretching his back and shoulders. Veneziano only giggled and nuzzled himself into Romano's waist, wrapping his arms around Romano's hips. Romano sighed and began patting his hair with one hand. He glanced at Veneziano's figure splayed on the bed next to him.

Those clothes look fami-…wait a minute!

"Feli why the hell are you in my clothes?"

"Hnn?" Veneziano looked down at himself with a pout as he pursed his lips, "I must have gotten them mixed up," He giggled, "Sorry fratello. I was wondering why they seemed a bit bigger on me~."

Romano slid his hand behind his neck and rubbed the kink in his muscles lightly as he let the weakness in his muscles from sleep wash away with the time. His mind shot back to last night and he felt his heart squeeze mercilessly and his muscles constricted mercilessly.

"L-listen Feli…about…last night…"

"It's okay, fratello, I understand that it was a mistake," He managed to giggle, even thought the heat under his eyes were threatening to make him cry, "Let's just move on~. I don't feel bad towards you at all~."

"Grazie, Feli," Romano said patting his head with a slight upturn to his lips. His brother always forgave him no matter what he did. It truly sickened him at times; but not because of Feli, but because he wouldn't forgive himself for everything. He knew that last night would forever be a stain on his heart.

Romano gently places his hands around Veneziano's wrists and pulled his arms off from his waist. "Let's go get some breakfast, Feli," He muttered as he threw his legs off the side of the bed and stood up stretching. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out some boxers and a tank top and placing them on.

Blissfully unaware of the smaller Italian watching happily from the bed

Romano pulled the tank top on and lazily ran fingers under the arm holes to settle the fabric more comfortably. He turned around and saw Veneziano happily sitting on the side of the bed looking out the window next to the dresser. Romano smirked and held out his arm for Veneziano.

"Hungry?"

"Si~," He sang, jumping up and holding tightly to his fratello's arm. They made their way from the room and into the hallway where Romano heard Spain and Germany discussing something in quiet tones. He raised his eyebrow curiously but was unable to make out the words, so just entered the room with Feli in tow and scowled at them. Spain waved and bid him a good morning with his natural smile, knowing Romano's scowl in the morning was harmless.

_He's been like this since he was a kid~ it's so cute_

Spain whispered over to Germany not to fear Romano's scowl, that he had heard nothing and was just not a morning person. Germany nodded and looked over at the Italian brothers quietly making a pot of strong coffee. Spain notices with disgust laying in his belly how close Veneziano was standing next to Romano and acting like an innocent angel.

_And I used to think you were innocence personified…_

Spain's heart growled in his fury and he took a sip of coffee glancing over the paper in front of him for anything interesting. He sighed when he found nothing fitting his fancy and handed Germany the paper who proceeded to read every article attentively. Veneziano released his hold from his brother's arm and bounded over to the table grabbing the side of the paper and flipping to the comic section and pulling it out contentedly, taking his seat at the table and kicking his legs as he read it. Spain and Germany exchanged glances and Spain nodded to Germany.

"So Italy, I think it's about time you and I headed home," Germany said nonchalantly reaching for his mug.

"W-what?" Veneziano said looking up with wide eyes pleadingly. Spain noticed how Romano's shoulders tensed slightly and his ears perked up keeping track of the conversation.

"J-ja…I believe it's time you and I leave. You've been here long enough. Spain is home and we wouldn't want to overstay our welcome would we?"

"W-well no, but I still want to stay with fratello! We have so much time to make u-."

"You can make up time on the phone, Italy. And you can visit any time you please, right Spain?" Spain nodded at Germany happily. "So there's no need for you to stay here any longer. If you pack your things this morning we'll be out of here by tonight. You'll still have some time to visit."

"B-but-."

"That's a great idea, Ludwig," Spain interjected happily, "Plenty of time to visit before you both leave~. Your own beds will be a lot better than the couch tonight."

Veneziano looked down at the comics trying not to cry at the prospect of leaving his precious fratello so soon. He glanced up at the sharp shoulder-blades of his brother's back across the kitchen. "W-what do you think fratello Lovi?"

Romano sighed placing a dish in the sink without looking at Veneziano's burning stare. "W-well…I think they're ri-."

A loud ring sang through the kitchen, interrupting Romano and having all eyes in the room torn to the wall phone. Romano reached out to grab it cradling the receiver in the crook of his shoulder as he washed the dish quietly.

"Yeah? Yeah this is him… No shit asshole I just woke up….hnn? Yeah the harvest was last night…oh I see, sorry….I've just been busy," Romano growled into the phone exasperated, "Does it have to be today?...fine I'll be there…Where should we meet? Yep, I know where that is. Umm…how about half an hour…'cause I have to get dressed, dipshit. Gee thanks…yeah see ya soon. Thanks."

Romano hung the receiver up and turned to see the three questioning faces looking at him from the table.

"What?" He growled.

"Who was that, amor?"

"Hnn? Just a…friend I have to meet later," Romano placed the dish down and began walking to the door, "I'll be leaving soon. Don't wait up tonight for me. 'Kay?"

Spain nodded standing up and placing his arms around Romano's shoulder, sneaking a small kiss to the back of his head on his hair. "S-si…be safe, Lovi."

Romano nodded leaving the room to get dressed. Spain went back to sipping his coffee enjoying the view outside from the window above the sink. Veneziano's spine shuddered as he thought of Romano's _friends_.

_The "friends" he wouldn't let Spain know about…_

_The "friends" that would kill him without a second thought._

Veneziano placed his hands together and began offering his silent prayers unbeknownst to his table-mates.

Romano straightened his red collar as he casually strode down the street in his black-silk suit. The people around him giving him wary glances and carrying along with their business. They would calm down when Romano gave them a slight smile and a nod. Then they'd notice he was the local tomato-farmer and he'd be forced into small talk of weather and gardening.

All-in-all he arrived at the designated café half an hour later than he said he would have. He cursed himself in his mind as he approached a spider-legged, smoking man in a black suit and green undershirt. Once the man noticed Romano coming towards him he dropped the cigarette onto the cement and crushed it under the hell of his black-leather shoes. He crossed his arms tilting his head to the side as Romano stepped next to him and sighed.

"Sorry for being late, Piero. The locals here know me and usually want to talk when I come to town."

Piero grunted, "I waited an entire half hour for you, idiota."

Romano growled predatorily in his throat as he flashed Piero a glare from his crisp golden eyes. "Well excuse me then, Princess."

Piero smiled and let out a laugh hitting Romano on the shoulder playfully. "Good to see ya in good health, Lovino. We haven't been able to meet up recently. The harvest always keeps you busy."

Romano nodded and smacked Piero on the back in return as the turned on their hells and walked into the large café. "Si. Managing a large field all by myself is fucking hard. You wanna do it for me next year?"

"Hell no!" Piero scoffed as he led Romano to the corner of the café, in the dark section where hardly anyone sat. "I don't like sweating…and I barely like tomatoes."

"Gee thanks," Romano said sliding into the circular booth and resting his arms on the top of the cushions. A sheepish woman came over to take their orders and Romano rolled his eyes when Piero took her hand and began to openly flirt with her.

"Dio, Piero, give her some space wil'ya?"

Piero scoffed at him with a childish pout. "I will when she gives me her phone number~," He sang looking up at her blushing face. She looked away and asked them again what they would like to order. Piero sighed and ordered. Romano chuckled at his friend's childish demeanor and asked for a simple espresso with a biscotti. The waitress nodded and scurried away as fast as she could. Piero rested his head on his palm with a sigh.

"You always scare them away."

"I know~ but this one was cuuuute~. I can't believe I messed this one up, Looviiinoooo~" he sighed stretching out on the table.

Romano pinched the bridge of his nose. 'He acts like the love-child of Feli and Antonio…" He thought shivering at the thought of how happy that child would be all the time, 'Good thing he's not…I would never let Feli's anything in the business. And it's over my dead body if Antonio ever finds out about it.'

"So…you have some work you need me to fill out?" Romano said crossing his arms and leading against the cushions. Piero sat up and straightened his bright yellow tie and nodded seriously.

"Si. Of course you know since you haven't been able to call us to…tie some loose ends up, we have a lot of request that are pretty urgent."

"How urgent," Romano said raising an eyebrow. Piero smiled innocently as the waitress set their order down blissfully unaware of the conversation prior, but still making sure to keep her distance from Piero's side of the table. Once she had bowed slightly and asked if they needed anything (which, no they did not, except her phone number) she gracefully fluttered to the other side of the café where the other patrons sat in the heavenly sunlight enjoying their days.

"Urgent enough," Piero began when he was sure that nobody was within earshot, "that a few may get whacked as we sit here once you give the okay."

Romano nodded and sat with his chest to the table, "Start with the most important cases first. Name. Age. Reason. You know the drill."

Piero nodded and removed a lump of papers from his jacket pocket, carefully unfolding it and handing the top layer to Lovino. The man in the photo was burly and grinning wide with three golden teeth shown openly.

"I already don't like his face."

"Simone Critini. 56. Businessman accused of embezzling so much money many of his workers have gone hungry. He's also the reason his workers of a certain branch lost all their health insurance."

"And why does that deserve death?"

"'Cause, on purpose, he did it to the branch where a workers wife has cancer. He doesn't like that worker and made them loose all their insurance on purpose to smite him."

"…and the worker asked for this mans death?" Piero nodded and Romano sighed sending a hand through his hair. "This man dying will not fix anything…nor will it make the worker feel better…or help his wife…but fuck-it-all I want him dead. I don't like his face."

Romano drummed his finger on the table as Piero made a cryptic call to the hit-man. He nodded and hung up; noting how Romano's shoulders slumped over the table and his suit seemed to be looser than usual.

"The next one," Piero said handing Romano another paper with the image of a young woman on it, holding a small child's hand, "Elisa Monna. 31 and mother of three. The reason she's wanted dead? Apparently her husband wants her out of the picture so he can continue his affair openly and not have to worry about a costly divorce."

Romano's face soured as he looked over at Piero. "Kill _him_."

"…What?"

"I didn't fucking stutter. Kill the fucking bastard. Somebody like that doesn't deserve to breath. And make sure his death is painful. I'm in no mood for mercy," He scoffed tossing the picture back over to Piero. Piero carefully folded the paper and placed it back into his pocket. He saw Romano sip at his espresso with a sigh, obviously still angered by the last case.

"L-Lovino…what's wrong with you today?"

Romano raised an eyebrow, "What're you talkin' 'bout?"

"I _know_ you Lovino. You're not being you're usually grouchy self…more like that on steroids. I've known you long enough to know when something is up."

Romano sighed and sat against the cushions again. "It's just been…hell at home. Ya know…with Antonio…and Feliciano came back recently."

"Feliciano? How's he doing?"

"Good, but that's not the point. Some insane shit has been going on. I almost …well…ya know…with both of them." Romano admitted openly. As an old friend Piero was fully aware of Romano's homosexuality and kept it hidden from the rest of the family members. He wasn't aware of Romano's country-identity yet. Apparently it hadn't hit him that Romano didn't show any signs of aging since the day they'd met.

"Woah…that's just…"

"Si. I know. But hell, now everybody is so calm about it and act like it doesn't happen. It's fuckin' hell I tell you…I keep fucking up!"

Piero slid on the seat over to Romano's side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I am sure you are over thinking things, my fratello. You just have to stay positive…oops I forgot I'm talking to Lovino!" he chuckled making Romano's face lighten up slightly as he sipped his espresso. Once he set down his cup Piero took his hand sliding a small, tin-case into the palm of his hand.

Romano, used to such secretive exchanges, took the tin and quickly wrapped his fingers around it as he slid it into his coat pocket. Once it was safely hidden he slipped the top open slightly and looked down at the bright white crystals looking up at him.

"P-Piero…"

"It'll help you relax a little bit," Piero smiled innocently at him, "You won't get addicted from one time, Lovino. You'll do some with me later, si?"

Romano slid the top closed and ran his thumb over the top a few times as his heart beat fleetingly under his shirt. He took a deep breath, swallowing the saliva in his mouth before nodding.

"Si."

Spain sighed again, for the nearly thousandth time, as he glanced at the clock that sat atop of the T.V. In bright red letters it displayed the hellish time: 3:39 A.M. Spain glanced back at the sitcom he was watching, not even laughing as the main character slipped on a banana peel. He just yawned and cradled his mug of strong coffee in his hands, sipping at it to keep himself awake.

_Where the hell could Lovi be…He's been gone since this morning…I hope he's okay…if anyone's dared fucking touch him I swear I'll k-_

Spain's devious thought was cut off by a giggling Romano bursting through the front door tangling with his tie. Spain wiped the haze from his eye as he placed his mug on the table. He turned on the couch to look at Romano curiously. Something was…off…

Romano was in a fit of high-pitched giggles as he tore at the tie with all his might until it came off and he fell on the ground holding his ribs laughing even harder.

"L-Lovino…are you okay?" Spain managed to utter from the couch. Romano stopped laughing and glanced up at Spain from the floor with a wide smirk.

"Si~ I am," He purred as he stood up unbuttoning the first three buttons of his shirt and making his way around the couch to stand in front of Spain. Spain noticed the daring glint in Romano's eyes and was about to stand up to help Romano to bed when he felt himself being pushed back onto the couch as Romano sat straddling his lap.

"L-Lovi?"

"Where are Feli and the potato-son-of-a-bitch, Toni~," He purred out his name like a kitten.

Spain gulped with a large blush creeping across his face. He tried not to look down at the way Romano's legs were splayed over his own, showing Lovino's bulge through the paper thin fabric.

"L-Ludwig took Feliciano home…he figured it was about time they took their leave. F-Feli wasn't happy about it…but he said he'd visit often."

Romano smiled wide and leaned forward putting his lips by Spain's ear, so the sensitive skin would be brushed by his warm breath as he talked. "I'm so happy to be alone with you now, Toni~," he sang out using his hands to massage the back of Spain's neck. Spain nearly jumped up at such close contact but managed to keep himself calm and pat Romano's back sheepishly.

"L-Lovino…are you…drunk?"

Romano was caught in another fit of giggles before pulling away and rubbing his eyes free of tears. "N-Not at all Toni~."

"W-well something isn't right…I mean you're acting fu-," Spain began but was quickly silenced by Romano wrapping his arms around the back of Spain's neck and pulling him into a passionate kiss. Spain gulped as Romano's lips hungrily siege his own. Romano's chest was close to his own, and Spain could feel their heartbeats mixing in his ears.

_Something…is not right here…Lovino isn't acting right…what's wrong with him? I-I can't…accept this affection!_

"How about we move to the bedroom, mi amor~," Romano purred at Spain pulling away from the kiss with a pant.

"N-No, Lovi, I think you need to go to sleep."

Romano's face soured as he pouted with his lip puckered up, "N-no! I love you and I want you to love me! I-I know I'm not worth it! I'm not worth it at all! Fuck nobody should love me," He sniffled with a tear falling down his cheek, "But even though I'm not worthy of your love I'm at least worth a good _loving_, right? I want you to fuck me Toni! P-please?" Romano attempted to give him doe eyes, but Spain's eyes only grew wide at such a candid confession.

"N-no." He sighed, believing it to be from the heavy influence of alcohol and pushed Romano sternly to the other side of the couch.

_Tink_

Spain heard a small sound of metal being struck and looked down at the floor. There lay a small tin box, about the size of his palm, in the center of a large white cloud. Romano was in a fit of giggles again as he found the cloud to look like a tomato. Spain's brow furrowed as he knelt down and picked up a small amount of the powder onto his thumb and forefinger. He felt his skin smooth over and his heart nearly stopped. He wanted to vomit.

_Cocaine._

_Where the fuck would Lovino get this…_

"Where did this come from, Lovi?"

"My pocket~," Romano answered jokingly fingering the small pocket on the inside of his jacket.

"Lovino," Spain said in an icy voice that chilled the air around them, "What…what is this?"

Romano giggled, not being able to recognize the threatening atmosphere, patted Spain on the back cheerfully. "It's _fairy dust~_," he said with a loud whisper.

Spain's face soured and he took a hold of Romano's collar and pulled him close enough to see the fury in his eyes. "And why the _fuck_ is there _fairy dust_ in my house? I better see a few fucking fairies around you in the next three seconds or else."

Romano's jovial giggling stopped once he heard the deep growl in Spain's throat. His golden eyes grew wide as the entire house became filled with Spain's menacing air.

"Answer me you little _shit_. Why the fuck, do you have _cocaine_? Why?" Spain shook Romano by the collar snapping his head back a few times. "Answer me!"

Romano's eyes filled with tears and he put his hands up in defense as he screamed like a banshee trying to keep Spain from hurting him. His lips formed a million words, all of them nonsense, as he looked at Spain pleadingly. His hands went to his head and began tearing at his hair crying hysterically.

Spain took a few deep breaths and recognized that no amount of yelling would get through to Romano now. He would have to talk to him when he was sober.

"I-It's okay, Lovi. Don't hurt yourself," He cooed as he changed the hateful expression on his face to a faux-smile that would be able to fool the disabled man. He took his Romano's hands in his own and pulled them away from his hair. Spain shifted Romano into his lap and gently rocked the shaking man who babbled incoherently.

Once Romano had ceased shaking and his breathing went from near-hyperventilation to a gentle, patterned breath, Spain allowed himself to bury his face in the top of his hair. A few tears escaped his eyes as he looked over to the small white substance on the floorboards. With his forefinger he tilted his head up and looked deep into the face of the sleeping nation. He wanted to ask him a million questions, but he knew Romano wouldn't answer them so easily.

"Dio, Lovi, what have you done?"


	21. Chapter 21

Rating: T+

A/N: Ok so usually I don't add A/N's (author's notes) but I felt this had to be said. In no way am I promoting the use of cocaine. I simply used it as a plot thickener. Romano is not going to _die_ on cocaine and the end of Mio Sole be tragic. No no no~. So some of you need to calm your tits. Just sit back, relax and let me show you what I got planned in the future chapters. Mio Sole is nowhere near over (I think…*shrug*) so no more mail calling me a druggie…k? I've never even been drunk or had a cigarette (er…in 5 years at least. I quit once I had a reason to watch my health. But that's another story lol) . So shut up.

Now on with the story

The car pulled up the industrialized house that seemed more like an army base than a house. The walls were thick, and the sides of the house reinforced with small metal pieces (hidden in white paint but still shimmering enough to tell). Germany got out of the car with his hand forcefully entwined around Italy's wrist. He paid the cabby a nice tip and watched him drive away as he towed Italy into the house. He was wriggling and trying to get away. Germany could tell he desperately wanted to return to Spain's house. But like hell that would happen right now.

_Over my dead body._

Germany easily overpowered the tiny Italian and nonchalantly walked to the door and unlocked it, pushing it open to reveal a pristinely clean house. He pulled Italy in with him, and pushed him in before locking the door securely.

"I don't want to be here! Let me go back to fratello Romano!" Italy screamed at Germany with gusto. He felt terror in his bones and worried about his brother's safety with his 'friends'. He'd never agreed to leave. Spain and Germany were simply larger than him and much, much, stronger. He tried to compromise for another day or two, but Germany threw him over his shoulder as Spain packed his things.

And now here they were…

"Nein. You'll overstay your welcome. I want you to stay here for the next few days."

"Eh? I don't think I should intrude on Germany! I want to stay with Romano! Why can't I stay with fra-"

"Because you've been trying to fuck him!" Germany boomed as his patience had reached its ending point. The entire trip home and that's all that was on Italy's lips; how to get back to Romano when Germany was right here with him.

Italy stepped back horrified for a moment. He gripped at his chest, digging his nails deep into the cloth of his shirt. Had he just heard Germany right? There's no way…

…no way he knew that he loved Romano like that.

Every time Germany was around Italy had paid special attention to act naturally; to try and show a platonic love on the surface. He knew Germany was very intuitive, but there was no way he could look at Italy and Romano's actions of the morning and see anything but platonic brotherly-love. Even Prussia held onto Germany more than Italy had held onto Romano in front of him.

"W-what are you saying, Germany," Italy tried to giggle but his lungs were too weak to and he made a sound like a whimper instead, "there's no way that I would want that wit-."

"I heard it, Italy! I heard you this morning with Spain in the kitchen. How you wanted Romano to take you last night, but Spain stopped it all. How…two-faced you were there," Germany placed his head in his hands and let out a long shaking sigh, trying to disperse some anger. How could _his_ Italy be like that? What happened to him? Why did he want Romano, when he was there for him all this time?

"Italy, I'm going to make this very clear to you," He began after a moment of complete silence, "what you want from Romano is incestuous…even humans know what you want is wrong and for the most part it's illegal in their realm. It's _disgusting,_" he spat out the word with a hellish look on his face, "and I _forbid_ it."

"F-forbid me?" Feliciano began to chuckle, "you can't forbid me to do anything. I'm my own fucking country Luddy~," he spat out menacingly with his caramel eyes glaring into Germany's, "I will do as I please and there's nothing you can do. And you were complaining about me being two-faced? Well here's the thing. I was tired of being everybody's fucking clown! I'm smarter than everybody takes me for! And it pisses me off that all of you think that I am such an imbecile, but I kept that hidden so god-damn long. You have no idea, Luddy. Not a fucking clue."

Germany felt his heart pound once, with force, against his ribs at Italy's confession. He'd never seen the young man act so…ruthless. It was frightening. He'd never thought Italy could look like this. In this light his amber eyes even seemed to turn a lifeless purple. But Germany calmed himself down with a few deep breaths and stepped towards Italy grabbing his wrist and pulling his face close to his.

_His eyes were purple! It wasn't an illusion!_

Germany swallowed back his fear. What the hell was happening here? This isn't normal! Eyes don't magically change color. He pulled Italy with him, even though Italy was significantly stronger than before. Germany actually had to struggle to pull the smaller nation to a door, which he kicked open with a loud bang, and threw him down a small flight of stairs. He closed the door quickly before Italy could charge it and shut the many locks on the outside. He used the small basement to keep Prussia away after he drank too much. But it served this purpose well too.

He could hear Italy's fist banging on the metal door mercilessly. He was screaming for escape. Germany sighed and rest his back to the door, feeling as if every hit Italy gave to the door went straight to his heart.

"Let me out you fucking bastard! I don't want to be here! I forbid you to do this! _Let. Me. Out!"_ He shrieked from the other side.

Germany slid down the door and sat on the cold tile just before the door. It was dark and the only light in the room came from the front door light that he had turned on as soon as they came in; but that light was yellow and hazy from years of being unchanged and rarely used. He buried his face in his hands and let his teeth clench until he was sure a tooth would probably crack.

_I'm doing this because I love you._

The lilies in the corner of the room made his skin crawl. It was sickening; their smell invading the entire room, only making others cry more. Spain wanted to throw the vases of lilies at the wall and throttle whoever thought of ordering so many.

Pure white lilies don't suit him at all. I would have chosen marigolds, or sunflowers, or even honeysuckle. Any flower besides these stupid lilies. Lilies should only be at the burial of virgins. Then again…perhaps lilies were perfect for him after all. Just not in such quantities.

He felt a hand on his back. Austria, dressed completely in black nodded at him. He hadn't realized until then that he had been in a staring-contest with a bunch of lilies on a table, keeping himself out of the room where the others were gathered to comfort each other.

"Spain," Austria said low trying to comfort him, "I-I…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Antonio."

Spain's ears perked at the use of his given name. The name was often only used between good friends, or to try and comfort. To try and make them feel human, at least for a moment. To show them that emotion was okay, that at least they had that connection to humans.

"R-Roderich," Spain broke down placing his head on the smaller mans shoulder allowing a few tears to escape. Even though the reserved man, under any other circumstances, would have pushed Spain away and scolded him, he could tell now was not the time. He wrapped his arms around Spain's head and patted his hair soothingly. There were no more words exchanged between the two though. They had a mutual understanding of the pain that everyone was feeling at the moment.

France and Prussia walked toward Spain, their arms carrying a large bouquet of sunflowers. The placed them on a nearby table and briskly walked to Spain. There was no joy to this meeting though. They were all dressed in uncharacteristic black clothes. France hugged Spain tightly first, then Prussia. They looked do the ground, unable to bare the horrid look of crying on Spain's features. Tears that should never have been t here.

"M-mon cher, time heals all wounds," France began halfheartedly trying to console Spain, "a-and w-we'll all see him again someday…" he placed his hand on Spain's shoulder, only to pull it away quickly. It felt like his body was crumbling. Those once strong shoulders were now frail and seemed they would break at the slightest touch. He held his hands at his sides and glanced over at Prussia with a nod.

Prussia gulped and sent a hand through his white hair nibbling his lips and trying to keep his friend in one-piece. He could tell Spain was about to shatter. "Spain. You're like a bruder to me. Please, keep yourself safe. Romano…he would want you to be…happy."

Spain wrapped his arms around his waist as his knees shook at the mention of his name. Romano. Romano. _My_ Romano. "Then why," Spain began in a mangled voice, trying desperately not to break out crying more than he already was, "Why would he do this?"

"W-we can't control this, Spain," France said looking up at Spain's face, his blue eyes holding the deepest pity. "It is okay to cry, Antonio."

Spain heart hit his rib cage hard and he fell to the ground gripping at France and Prussia's coats as pathetic sobs poured forth from his eyes. His shoulders shook horribly as his body felt like it was breaking in half. He nearly screamed out in pain. The two dropped to their knees to help their friend, pulling him into an embrace where he could weep on their shoulders. He clawed at the back of their coats, sending both of them into tears as well.

_This isn't fucking fair!_

The rest of the nations looked over at the scene with pity, but none dared to say anything. Even if they had a personal vendetta against Spain, it wasn't fair to kick him while he was down. England kept his face turned down, furrowing his brows as his shoulder shook with his silent sobs he was barely able to contain. Next to him America sat in open tears, his face turned to the ground as tissues pressed into his eyes, he was biting his lips trying to make it all go away. England set his arm on America's back and rubbed it softly, consoling him. America and Romano had become good friends from their mutual interest of eating.

"Alfred. It's okay." England kept saying over and over until the point of nausea.

"Then why…is Spain crying?" Al retorted once, making England sit back against the wooden bench and sigh. He shook his head unable to come up with any other cliché comforts. He ran his hands through his hair as Alfred's back started shaking with stronger sobs.

The bell in the courtyard sounded, showing it was time for the service. Spain found himself unable to lift his feet and enter the room. Instead, Prussia held onto his arms and lead him in on his shoulder. France grabbed the bouquets of sunflowers and followed them.

The room was dark, and crowded. Large wooden benches lay on each side of the room. Lilies were everywhere, in vases, made into large archways at the head of the room, even hanging from the walls. The smell of them made Spain want to wretch.

He kept his face tilted downwards as Prussia lead him past every world nation to the front of the room, which was left empty out of respect. Spain saw Italy sitting there looking down at the ground, unable to look up for anything in the world, Germany at his side rubbing his back soothingly as he held his own tears back for the sake of Italy. Prussia set Spain down on the bench, and sat himself between Spain and Italy. France took Spain's other side.

The elderly priest took the podium at the front of the room and crossed his chest before taking a deep breath and beginning his speech.

" O Lord, you who are the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort; look with compassion, we pray, upon all gathered here now, that our minds and hearts shall be at your command."

Spain looked at his shoes and began counting to keep the words from reaching his ears. His black leather shoes had 38 stitches on the left side and 41 on the right.

"Grant that this service of comfort, which we now hold in your name, may bring to all a sense of heavenly nearness and great trust in you."

Spain searches his cufflinks. Did the marble shine like that all the time? Was it marble or mother of pearl? Romano had given them to him for his birthday. Romano…

"And may the peace of Christ, even the peace that passes all understanding, abide with us and rest upon all these dear ones. We pray through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," the other countries repeated.

"This man, who lie before us now, was a great man. Like all great men he made his mistakes and had his own corruptions. Like all of us here do as well. He chose the primrose path, and now he lies amongst lilies. God will forgive him and in heaven's loveliness he will sing with the ang-."

"You don't even know him!" Spain's voice shook as he stood up facing the priest with hate-filled eyes. His body was shaking as he was forced to see the man he'd loved lying in a casket lifeless and pale. His features were off slightly. They'd reconstructed his face as best they could, but Spain knew every inch, every freckle, every single pore on his face and none of it looked right. Spain wanted to cry but bit his lip until blood fell and dirtied his crisp white collar.

France tugged at his cuff, trying to get him to calm down and sit so the priest could finish the sermon. Spain pulled his hand away and marched up to the casket, looking down at Romano's face. If he were alive right now he'd be screaming at the priest for mentioning his mistakes after his death. Romano was adamant that one was only supposed to speak well of the dead. He was always slightly superstitious.

His body had been placed in a casket full of lilies. Spain wanted to throw up once he'd seen it. He calmly walked back to the pew where France sat and picked up the sunflowers and marching back to the casket. He pulled out all the sunflowers and placed them all around Romano diligently, making sure to tear apart any lilies that stood in the way. He pulled out a few and let them fall to his feet crushing them underfoot. He would not allow Romano to be buried with the detestable scent and look of the purest flower. This was something he would never ever allow.

The priest looked on dumbfounded as Spain worked, tears in his eyes and hand barely brushing against Romano's face. Once the bouquet had run out he let the film wrapping fall to the ground as well. He looked over his work. Romano's body was surrounded in the most vibrant yellows anyone could ever imagine. It seemed to give his pale skin life again. Spain dropped to his knees letting his arms still hold onto the side of the casket as heavy sobs filled the silence of the room. A few more countries, like Hungary and America, began crying harder as well. Spain shoulders shook heavily, nobody dared to approach him knowing there was nothing they could say to him right now.

The priest approached Spain and placed a hand on his shoulder and kneeled down next to him. "My son, although today the wounds of your loss are deep and great the Lord has given us time to help us. Time will help soothe the wounds over. The sun will surely shine tomorrow."

"Not mine," Spain muttered, "My sunshine was right next to me. Now he'll lie under the Earth. My sun will never rise again."

Romano sat up in bed, rubbing the back of his head vivaciously with his palms. His nose burned like a fire had ignited right under it, and there were a few large, grotesque, purple bruises on his upper arms. What the hell had happened last night? All he remembered was meeting Piero for some business and then…nothing.

He growled in his throat and went to shut the curtains on the side of his room to get more shut-eye. He nearly fell off the bed once he felt there were no curtains there. 'W-what the hell? Did somebody fuck up my room?' he thought angrily before opening his eyes and seeing he was in Spain's large bed.

_W-what the hell?_

He jumped and ran his hands through his hair, scoping out the expanse of the room curiously.

_What had happened last night? Did Spain…and I…oh dio_.

He thought angrily for a few seconds of how the tomato bastard would die. Their first time and he doesn't even _remember _it! Did he get him drunk? Drug him up? Che palle that bastard is gonna die! He looked to the other side of the bed expecting to see a calmly sleeping Spain next to him on the mattress. His eyes went wide when he saw nothing on the bed, but Spain next to the bed in an uncomfortable chair.

His arms were crossed over his chest and his head tilted onto his shoulder as his breath was calm and even. The morning sunlight was hitting his chocolate curls and making them look as if they were glowing with gold specks on them. His tanned skin looked radiant and blissful at the rays.

Fuck…I can't kill_ that…_

Romano growled and leaned forward to look into Spain's face. A slight bit of drool was resting on his lip. Romano let out a slight smile and leaned closer, wiping it off softly with his forefinger. He wiped it on the sheets, but he couldn't help himself but crave the tingling feeling on his finger to be on his lips instead.

_Che palle…I'm a fucking sap. _

He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Spain's unconscious ones. He wanted, more than anything, for Spain to kiss him back. For him to be able to do this when he was awake and be accepted. To be worthy of Spain's affections.

His lips felt so soft and perfect. Barely any creases and the flavor of cinnamon and sugar, probably from all the sugary churros he eats. Romano pulled away regrettably and looked at Spain's face longingly. "Someone like you deserves an angel," he muttered under his breath as he pulled away, placing his back against the headboard and looking out the window.

The blue sky was stretched cloudlessly over the expanse of wilting tomato plants, who'd happily served their purpose and given their fruit. Romano smiled at his plants with a dreamy look.

Spain had taught him to grow them so long ago, and now it was second nature to him. The cloudless sky meant fall was coming. There would be no planting for a few more months while it was cold. "Until then, I guess I'll just…read or something," he thought to himself pouting.

Spain's neck went lack and he toppled forward slightly jerking him awake. He glanced up, his vision hazy from lack of sleep and the bright morning light filtering through the room. Romano was sitting up in bed looking out the window. The light hit his hair and made it a soft copper color. Spain's eyes grew wide as everything came into focus. Romano hadn't noticed he was awake, and for the moment being he was going to enjoy this vision of his Lovi in morning light.

Spain's smile faded into a furious scowl as the events of the previous night hit his mind again in glorious detail. His Romano, in a giggling stupor, straddling him and confessing his love, only for Spain to discover all of it was the influence of cocaine. Spain growled deep in his throat making Romano's head shoot back looking at his shadowed face.

His eyes glimmered like emeralds thrown into a fire and his body shook in his anger. He'd held back last night, to protect Romano from doing anything rash, but now that he was sober…nothing was there to stop him now.

"What the hell…is wrong with you Italia Romano," he growled out angrily, "what in God's name made you do that?"

"H-huh, I don't know what you're talking ab-," Romano began before Spain grabbed his collar roughly and shook him slightly.

"Bullshit Italia Romano. You know damn well what I am talking about."

Romano's eyes went wide, his vision shaking slightly as he looked up horrified into the vibrant green ones in front of him. He gulped unable to find words and just shook his head. Spain threw him back on the bed with a thud and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small tin box and slamming it on the bed.

Romano reached for the box and felt the smooth tin and rough edges. Wide-eyed he began to piece things together in his mind as Spain glared down at him.

_I met Piero…to do some business and he and I were talking. He noticed I wasn't feeling well…so he gave me this box…but what was in it?_

His brows furrowed as he tried remembering the substance that was in the box. He couldn't exactly remember it's texture…but it was shiny and white.

_Snow? No not yet…it couldn't be snow. Still too early and where the fuck would Piero get snow? Crystals…crystals…oh dio it couldn't be…_

"Coke," he muttered under his breath as it all came back to him. He shook his head in shame. He remembered going into the back of a nice bar and shifting the powder onto the tables and sniffing it down with their drink straws. The sound of crunching crystals under the double edged razor.

"That's right Romano," Spain hissed making Romano snap out of the images of last night, "Don't even fucking bother to look in the box for more of that shit. I sent that down the drain once I swept it up."

Romano was unable to look at Spain as his body trembled in disapproval of himself. What the hell had he done? His throat constricted on itself and made it difficult to breathe.

"Well… ready to explain yourself now, Romano?" Spain said menacingly tapping his fingers on his forearm.

Romano tried to gulp down his shame for a moment and spoke incoherently, "I-I-I…and I…he…we were…and it seemed…I-I…"

Spain growled as he looked down at the stumbling Italian. With a growl he placed his knee on the bed and crawled over next to Romano.

"Do you remember what you asked me to do to you last night, Lovino?"

Romano glanced over at Spain, his hellish face had turned into a cocky smirk with playful eyes that still had hints of malice behind them. Romano didn't like them…not one bit. Romano furrowed his brow and desperately tried to get the one piece of the night that hadn't returned to him yet.

…how he got home…

…and how he woke up in Spain's bed…

"D-did we…?"

"No Lovi, we didn't," Spain smirked at him with a look of disgust.

Romano put his head back down, keeping his eyes in his lap, doing anything he could to avoid Spain's ever-present gaze.

"Although…that wasn't from lack of asking me," He chuckled ominously. Spain saw Romano's ears perk up desperately trying to grab every word he was speaking. Romano's eyes even grew wider but never left his lap.

Spain leaned forwards and bit Romano softly on the neck. Romano tried to jerk backwards but Spain caught the back of his head, grabbing his copper locks in his fist, and held him in place forcefully. Spain's teeth grazed over the delicate skin and he bit down sharply. Romano let out a whimper and tries to push Spain's face away desperately.

"T-t-that hurts! Q-quit it goddammit!"

Spain chuckles against his throat with another quick bite. He grabbed Romano's hands and held them together in one hand squeezing them hard.

"But you asked me to, Lovi," He chuckled throwing the covers off Romano with his free hand. Romano looked down to see himself only in his tomato-red boxers. He looked up at Spain with a frantic look on his face, begging him to cover him back up. In response Spain only smirked wider, bearing his teeth.

Spain's hand wandered southward as he held Romano's hands roughly above his head. Spain slipped his hand under the elastic, and allowed it to roam over the small puff of hair that prelude the main article. With a smirk Spain reached down and grabbed Romano's placid manhood roughly and squeezed it. Romano winced and tried to pull his hips back, but Spain only followed and kept his hand wrapped tightly around him.

"P-please let it go," Romano whimpered feeling his body tingle in a mix of pain and pleasure.

_F-fuck when did I become a masochist! Fuck! Why the hell is he doing this?_

"No, no, no, Lovi~," Spain purred waving a finger in front of his face before returning it southward. This time, however, it completely bypassed his manhood and went straight to his puckered hole. His finger traced a small circle around the entrance as Romano's eyes shot wide with tears on the sides of them. His head shook as his lips created silent words.

_P-please…no…not like this no…_

Spain's face darkened again and he shoved two dry fingers into Romano. Romano's back arched forward in pain as he felt his muscles being stretched unnaturally.

"Aiye! Q-quit! Ow! P-please! Stop! N-no!" Romano screamed until his throat went hoarse. Spain only glanced down at him with dead eyes as he took his fingers and made them scissor every which way. He could feel Romano's muscles constricting around his fingers.

In his dreams Spain would have told Romano to relax or else it'd be worse for him. In his dreams his fingers would be coated with lube as he caressed the lithe Italian body under him. He would make sure Romano was ready and wanted him earnestly, not by some crack filled stupor.

_But this is not a dream…this is a reality._

Spain took his fingers out sharply and wiped them on the sheets. There was no blood on them, he was grateful for that at least. He didn't want to make Romano bleed. He never wanted to make the one that made his heart feel like it was going to explode bleed.

"I know you don't want me to do that to you; and if you do that stuff again…I won't show you mercy," Spain spat out as he turned on the bed and crawled off. He swung open the door and slammed it behind him. He rested his back on the cool wood and took a deep breath.

Romano lay on the bed panting as his throat felt it was on fire. His entire body was shaking and screaming at him to make the pain stop. After a moment or two Romano brought his knees to his chest, lying on his side in the bed. He shuddered as he smelled Spain's strong scent all over the sheets.

"I-I want to…," Romano mumbled, "just…not like that." The tears in the corner of his eyes left trails down the side of his face as it soaked a tomato-shaped pillow that smelled of Spain. He clutched it to his chest, burying his face into it to hide his sobs.

Spain slid down the door so he was sitting on the floor facing Romano's door. He rested his head on his knee and bit the top roughly to keep himself from crying. His shoulders shook like tree branches in the harshest storm winds as he tired to hold back his tears.

_I refuse to let my dream come true…_

_I'm doing this…because I love you._

**_A/N: I forgot to mention or make it clean that the funeral is Spain's dream...sorry about that ^^; forgive me~ 3_**


End file.
